


His Sensorium Burning

by NamelessDragon



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: A few character cameos, Angst, Author Takes Liberties with Already Dubious Canon Time Travel Rules, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, BDSM, Blindfolds, Bondage, Bondage and Discipline, Cock & Ball Torture, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Crying, Cunnilingus, Dissociation, Dubious Consent, Dubious Consentacles, Erotic Electrostimulation, F/M, Femdom, Flogging, Fuck Or Die, Gags, Hair-pulling, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Injury, Mechanical tentacle sex, Mild Verbal Humiliation, Minor Character Death, Multiple Orgasms, Near Death Experiences, OCs that are technically existing characters, Obedience Discs, Oral Sex, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, POV Brunnhilde | Valkyrie (Marvel), Painplay, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Rope Bondage, Self-Harm, Shapeshifting, Sub Loki (Marvel), Time Travel, Valkyrie's Flying Horse, Wax Play, but it's more like "fuck or Loki dissociates", dom valkyrie, mild bloodplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-29 12:27:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 44,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21410170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NamelessDragon/pseuds/NamelessDragon
Summary: As the newly named King of Asgard, Valkyrie has a duty to oversee the expansion and development of her people's settlement. That gets a lot more difficult when Loki shows up, Tesseract in hand and fresh off his attempted invasion of New York. With his brother off-world, Valkyrie has to keep Loki from escaping or actively getting in the way of New Asgard's progress until Thor makes his return. But when Loki begins experiencing a flood of vivid and disruptive visions from the life he was meant to be living after his defeat at the hands of the Avengers, Valkyrie finds herself needing to do everything in her power to keep him glued to his present self, or risk losing his mind.
Relationships: Brunnhilde | Valkyrie & Thor (Marvel), Brunnhilde | Valkyrie/Loki (Marvel), Loki & Thor (Marvel)
Comments: 66
Kudos: 203
Collections: Marvel Big Bang 2019





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic originated over the summer when I decided I wanted to write some quick, angsty and plotless femdom porn. 
> 
> I failed at one of those things. Spectacularly. (Hint: it's not the angst or the femdom)
> 
> It ended up turning into my Marvel Big Bang fic. [Here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21410449) is a link to the lovely companion art by [brokenEisenglas!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokenEisenglas/pseuds/brokenEisenglas) Please check it out!
> 
> Also, huge thanks to (my first ever) betas [Lise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lise/pseuds/Lise) and [ManipLoki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ManipLoki/pseuds/ManipLoki).

The day he shows up, Valkyrie has just finished overseeing and sorting the arrival of their latest fishing haul.

Being appointed King of Asgard by Thor hasn't changed much in the way of her duties since they'd been accepted by Earth - it only fully cements her already existing leadership. There had been nervousness among the people about the switch, but for the most part, it had all been relief. She still has reservations about having a monarchy in place of any kind, and she's told the people in no uncertain terms not to expect anything like an arranged marriage or continuation of any sort of bloodline. 

Not that she doesn't miss the sex. She'd tried for some relationships, in the years between Thanos's Snap and the Battle for Earth. Spent a couple of nights with women and men that caught her eye. But they never lasted long. It had made her realize more than ever that despite her moderate handle on sobriety, the hundreds of years of other assorted habits she'd gathered on Sakaar in the midst of trying to forget her grief were still making themselves known.

No one takes it personally, at least not to an obvious extent. Most of the people just tell her that more than anything, they're happy to have her there to help guide them as they rebuild and grow stronger. And she wants to do everything in her power to help them, even if deep down she doesn't quite know what to do with their gratitude.

They as a people have quite a lot to be grateful for. New Asgard is a blessing they could have never expected, considering the state they and Earth had been in upon their arrival. Fortunately, Asgardians are hardy compared to humans, can work longer hours and sleep much less. After a short time in the normal mortal workforce they had enough currency to buy supplies and create homes for themselves, and to bargain with the government for a place they could settle on a world that had been torn to shreds by Thanos. Thor had insisted (drunkenly) that they set up in the location that Odin had suggested before he'd passed away. 

Valkyrie hadn't been convinced that Odin should have any say in Asgard moving forward, especially since, more than anything, it was his actions that had necessitated its destruction and the deaths of so many of its people. (And he'd seemed a shit father to his two subsequent sons just as much as he'd been terrible to his firstborn.)

But Thor had so much to grieve, and it hadn't been like they'd had many options. Besides, he'd been their king, if a king of a broken and displaced people. 

The problem was, he'd had no idea where or in which part of Norway his father had actually died. He'd been sent there in the first place by a mortal sorcerer, who was numbered among those lost. 

So, they'd searched. They'd combed over every piece of land at their king's insistence, until they'd been directed to a witch who resided in a small town near the coast. She'd sent them to the spot that they would settle. And when Thor had stood on the empty cliffside and wept and smiled, Valkyrie had thought with certainty: fuck any lingering resentments about Odin. They were really doing the right thing. 

And for years, the right thing has involved seemingly endless days of fishing. 

Which is why she’s now back inside her house with the current foremost concern in her life the quick removal of her cod-scented clothes. She haphazardly strips as she walks, dropping the articles on the floor with the intention of picking them up later. She eagerly showers, rinsing herself clean before changing into her linen pajamas. There's still some paperwork she wants to go over before she turns in, but she can do that while indulging herself in a drink or three. 

As she leaves the kitchen he apparates in her living room, haggard and confused, chained and muzzled. The Tesseract is in his hands.

She smashes a bottle against his head before the rest of her thoughts catch up with her eyes. He stares at her for a moment, his scowl deepening and his hair dripping with beer. Then his eyes roll up and he collapses in a heap at her feet.

She stares down at him, breathing heavily. Her instinctive urge for violent defense is momentarily overcome by the relieved confusion that the bastard has actually done it; he's managed to fool Thanos and get himself back to his people.

But logic quickly sours any hope - the Tesseract was destroyed. All of the stones were destroyed. That there is one in front of her now is very indicative that instead something has gone wrong in a time and place where they aren't.

She takes the cube in hand - she's never actually seen it in person up close, besides a brief encounter with the Gauntlet on the battlefield. It's all brilliant ice-cold blue, and pulses against her skin like a living presence. There's temptation there, and discomfort - as if it knows her strength and wants to be used. 

"Yeah, well, you're out of luck, there," she says to it. "I know for a fact you don't belong here."

She has a large chest against the wall, where she keeps her extra weapons and some trinkets. She carefully places the Tesseract inside and seals the container with a lock designed to open to her touch alone.

Then she downs the second bottle she'd grabbed from the fridge, before she considers her visitor. He wears some sort of ridiculous leather tangle of an armor set that's clearly more for visual intimidation than function. His face is a lot more worn than it had been on Sakaar, dark circles painting the undersides of his eyelids.

"What the hell did you do to your hair," she says out loud, eyeing the cluster of sharp black points that make up the back of his head.

She notes that the muzzle and chains are Asgardian. She has no idea what the fuck that means, or where he's come from. 

And Thor isn't there to deal with him. 

She removes the muzzle - she's seen its like before, designed to humiliate the wearer as much as silence them. The chains she leaves in place, just in case he gets feisty when he wakes, and adjusts the magic mechanism on them so some of the links withdraw and give him less range of movement. She commands them to sprout another lead for good measure, allowing herself a way to keep a hold on him. Stupid, of whoever had caught him, to give him that much leeway with his hands.

Wherever he's been, he's been worked over hard. Bruises and cuts litter his face. He hadn't worn so much as a mark after their little tussle on Sakaar. She finds a sizeable tender lump on his head in the spot where she hit him with the bottle - a pre-existing injury, beginning to turn purple at the edges. No wonder he'd crumpled like a stack of cards.

She's well into her third drink and slouched comfortably into a chair by the time he stirs. He blinks rapidly, then wrinkles his nose in a disgruntled scrunch, his hands curling against the floor as he utters a low noise of pain. He notes the chains and freezes, his eyes carefully following the lead to where it rests in her hand.

She waves her bottle. She's had enough time to go through the multitude of emotions at his appearance and settle on mildly drunken anger. "So how did you manage to fuck over your brother this time?"

He gives her a sharp look. "My brother..." He scowls, slowly pushing himself up onto his knees. It has to be the alcohol, but she can't help the way her eyes linger on the shape of his thighs as they press against the leather. "Where am I? What is this place?"

She takes another drink at that knowledge - either he'd had his own head so far up his ass as to not have bothered to check on where the remnants of his people had ended up (_hypocrite,_ her mind supplies) or there was another reason for his ignorance. "New Asgard."

His confusion deepens a moment before he checks the floor around himself. He gets a lot more perky after that, straightening and scanning the room in quick jerks. 

She stands from her chair and steps over to him before he can get any ideas. 

He stops all movement as he watches her approach, cautious in his disadvantage. "Where is it?"

"I've locked up the Tesseract," she informs him. "Thor's gone off in space, so if you were hoping to have some sort of grand reunion-"

Loki snarls, and she can tell he's different for sure - his edges extra prickly, his rage brighter. "I only just escaped that great oaf, why would I wish his return? And who in Bor's name are you?"

Her blood goes cold at the confirmation. She reaches down and pulls him up by the front of his armor; his hands came up in protest before he lowers them, his eyes widening at the realization of her strength. The sleeve to her pajamas slips down, exposing her forearm - by the time she realizes what that means, he's already noted her tattoo.

"You're a valkyrie," he breathes in astonishment, before he raises an eyebrow. "I thought the valkyrie all died-"

His head snaps back from her fist before he can finish. "Shut up," she orders, and clamps her hand roughly over the chain joining his wrists to keep him out of her head.

It's still a sore spot, his disregard for the pain of her past.

She pulls him in close. "I am going to ask you a question, and I would like you to answer me very carefully. Where were you before you came here?"

No answer, but she doesn't think she's imagining it when his breathing grows just a tinge more labored. She shakes him meaningfully, and clenches her hand more harshly against his wrists. 

He grimaces and relents. "New York," he says.

She drops him and steps back. _Fuck._

\----------

She interrogates him, trying to get whatever details he'll give, false or not. He's obviously not counting on the fact that she's already in possession of at least somewhat of an idea of his history, having spent long nights with Thor when he'd been drunk enough to forget to clamp everything inside like he usually did. Her then-king would weep and regale her with tales of his memories of life growing with his brother, always leading to his recount of the reaffirmation of their brotherhood just before it had been cruelly severed.

Loki clearly thinks she's insane. She veers in and out of the same assumption about him. 

He'd been an odd one on Sakaar, but he'd meshed well in such a cutthroat environment, and had managed to keep himself from getting an obedience disc applied to him besides. He'd tried to kill her, of course, but he'd never looked at her quite like he is now, like he might pull her throat out with his teeth if given half the chance.

She knows she can't trust him to go exactly back to where he's meant to be, let alone go back and stay there. She can see it in his eyes - beyond the rage, this Loki is slimier, his edges honed by desperation. He's not going to hesitate to wriggle himself into anything that would benefit his situation, even and especially at the expense of others. He holds none of the growth of his older counterpart. 

Case in point - the Tesseract, and the fact that even alluding to Thor or Asgard or Odin around him makes him look as if he's going to vomit from disgust.

She asks him, just to confirm. "If I give you the Tesseract back, will you transport yourself back to your own timeline?"

He looks startled, and then an indulging smile comes over his face. "Absolutely. Without question."

Which means he'll just throw himself farther off course to escape, and then she'll lose track of him - probably forever.

She grabs the muzzle and walks over to him. His pleased expression falters at the sight of it and he takes a hesitant step backwards, chains clinking. "Wait. That's hardly necessary."

She unapologetically grips his armor to still him and presses it against his mouth. He flinches when it stretches around the back of his head, his nostrils flared as he glares down at her. 

"I have a kingdom to run," she says, uncaring that the word is still a bit of a stretch for what New Asgard is at this point. "And I need to make some calls to decide to do with you. So I'm putting you to bed."

\----------

If it was just him, she wouldn't have bothered anyone else with the situation. The Tesseract, though - that complicates things. 

She calls Carol Danvers. As far as she knows, the woman hasn't left Earth again just yet, and is the de facto leader of the planet's remaining human defenders. 

The voice that greets her holds a multitude of tones, including confusion and caution.

"There's a problem," Valkyrie opens with. 

"Really?" She hears a heavy breath. "Guess we were overdo for one. What's up?"

Valkyrie considers how to word it. "Someone came through a portal with the Tesseract. _A_ Tesseract, anyway."

There's a moment of stunned silence. "Who?"

"Loki," Valkyrie admits. "Thor's brother."

"The one that he said was killed by Thanos?" 

"He doesn't have any others."

"And you're not talking about it like it's a good thing."

"I think he time traveled. And...he could be a double-crossing idiot in the best of times, but this one says he's fresh off invading Manhattan. I have him restrained so he won't cause any trouble."

"Where's this Tesseract now?"

Valkyrie eyes the chest against the wall. "Safe, until we can figure out what to do with it."

"That's not really my territory," Carol sighs. "Doctor Banner's on sabbatical from the Avengers, so I'll have to ask Scott what he thinks and get back to you. Do you want me to send a message to Rocket's ship?"

Valkyrie hesitates. Normally, her answer would be yes, with full certainty. But now she wonders if it's really fair to call Thor back when there's a chance they'll just have to throw Loki back into his own time, to follow the path to death set for him there.

And if the thought of that is making some vague pang stir in her breast despite all of her grievances with the damn bastard, what would it do to Thor?

"No," she says. "Everything's under control. I won't bother Thor with this yet."

\----------

She checks on Loki first thing. She'd given him a blanket and a pillow the night before, both of which wouldn't help the discomfort of his bulk of armor, but she couldn't really give a shit. Still, he's clearly been running on fumes, because even with his hands over his head and chained around one of the legs of her bed, he's asleep. 

The bed creaks when she slides from it, loud enough that he wakes with a jerk, eyes wide with terror. His gaze darts towards her when she moves, some of the fear in his face fading. But not all. 

She wonders who he'd been expecting instead. The Avengers, giving him his due for his invasion of Earth? Or someone worse?

She unlocks his chains and pulls free the muzzle. 

He rubs at his wrists as he sits up, watching her warily. He still looks exhausted, but his injuries have faded appreciably overnight.

But she isn't going to make the mistake of underestimating him. She decides it's for the best to give him a little warning before he gets up. She holds her hand up in a signal and he pauses in his rising, still crouched with his hand pressed against the floor for balance.

"If you try to mess with anything of mine," she says, "including my head, I'll put my spear into somewhere that you will very much wish it wasn't."

He watches her carefully - he's still trying to judge her, and she feels irritated that he obviously has some intuition on how to act to placate her despite, for all he knows, their having just met. "Are you allowing me to leave?"

"I wish I could," she says, and shrugs as he stiffens. "Eventually, I hope. If I figure out that your being here isn't going to somehow destroy this reality."

Two can play at this game. She isn't being outright antagonistic. She knows that wouldn't work with him, and he hasn't pissed her off enough yet to drop her over that edge. 

But maybe that's just another result of his lack of energy.

He has it somewhere deep within him to make the right decisions, but she isn't Thor. She's not going to fight Loki through his issues or argue with him again and again, to feed his ego while he's this dangerous.

And if he's planning on trying to kill her at any point...well, things _were_ getting a bit boring around the place.

She allows him to use her shower, to wash the scent of beer and blood from his person, and uses his time distracted to check for any messages or missed calls from Carol regarding what his fate will be. 

There aren't any yet.

She digs down on a faint tendril of anxiety, and resumes her duties as the King of Asgard.

\---------

Loki spends the day watching her. His confusion coupled with the lack of immediate danger to his person has drained some of his agitation, though he's clearly sore and offended by her casual treatment of him the night before.

She isn't sure if it's good to answer any of his queries about Asgard's current state, but he hasn't caused any trouble yet otherwise, and it isn't like his being there at all hasn't already given him information he shouldn't have known. All he needs is to look out the windows to see the great changes that had come to their people. 

One thing she holds to - and suspects she will until he's out of her hair - is keeping him in the dark about what happened to their Loki. He hasn't thought to ask yet, but if he knew, and he found out that Thanos is dead, she wouldn't put it past him to try to stay in this timeline no matter what the cost. She wouldn't even blame him, really.

And it might just be that she's in a better place than when they first met, but she finds he doesn't agitate her half as much as he did on Sakaar. 

He even has the courtesy to wait until nightfall to try to escape. 

She doesn't rush. It's a ritual, the binding of her hair and the donning of her armor. She arms herself with her spear and rope, before heading to the pasture behind the stables. 

She brings her fingers to her lips and whistles loudly, the sound echoing through the night air. There's a distant, responding neigh and then a flash of white is streaking across the sky towards her.

Solvi had been a stroke of good fortune among tragedy, found on a planet the Asgardians had been forced to dock and resupply at after their flight from the attack on the Statesman. Near enough in location to Asgard, she must have descended from the very same native creatures that had been domesticated for valkyrie use. 

The winged horses of Asgard were empathic. Solvi had never met a valkyrie in her life, but the connection was still there, in some distant instinct. 

Or perhaps it had just been Valkyrie herself who had projected so strongly upon seeing her.

Far too strong-willed for most and full of magic, Solvi’s then-owner had been unable to make any use of her and was planning to sell her to Taneleer Tivan, the Collector. 

But Thanos had reached him first.

The Asgardians hadn't money, or much of anything to trade in exchange - but the night before they had planned to move on from the planet was the night of the Snap. Solvi's owner and the stable guards had turned to dust, and amid the chaos and the grief of more Asgardians lost, Valkyrie had found herself in possession of a new companion. 

A companion she’s going to use now to help her retrieve her errant guest. 

Wind gusts over Valkyrie's face from the flap of wings before Solvi lands before her, ears pricked forward. 

"There's a girl," she says, scratching the wide white neck, before swinging herself up onto Solvi’s back. She tightens her thighs for balance, smiling at the thrill that fills her. "Come on. We're going to go hunting.”

\----------

It's laughably quick, how fast Solvi finds Loki. She knows magic: how to track it, how to see through it.

Loki's clearly shocked when they come upon him - he hasn't moved far outside the borders of New Asgard, and Valkyrie wonders if he was planning on attempting to circle back to try and take the Tesseract while she was out searching for him. 

He fights viciously, cloaking himself and employing illusions and knives and jolts of green magic. But it's two against one and he's not yet fully recovered from New York, and Valkyrie's aggressive enough that he doesn't have time for any more complicated spells besides.

She finally gets him pinned on his back and tightens a zip snare around his wrists with enchanted rope while Solvi watches with nostrils flared and tail raised from the excitement.

"Thanks for that," Valkyrie says as she cinches the restraint tight. "I needed a reason for a good run."

She'd said the words to dig at his pride, but she can't help but note the way he breathes heavily and stares up at her as if he's finally seeing her for the first time.

\----------

The next morning, something is wrong. He's curled on his side, hands bound to her bed again. His teeth grind audibly, tears coursing down his cheeks as if he's in terrible pain.

"I need the Tesseract," he says when she approaches him. He sounds panicked and desperate.

"That's too bad." She crouches in front of him. "I'm not giving it to you just so you can run off and wreak havoc."

He jerks on his bonds in aggravation, hard enough it threatens to crack the wood of the post. "I have just been informed by Odin that my birthright was to die, and that I will spend eternity rotting in chains and isolation."

She narrows her eyes. "There's no one else here."

He speaks through clenched teeth. "I am _aware._"

"So you don't need to escape from anyone."

His words come in a rush. "The Einherjar are pulling me away - Asgard's cells have more than enough power to contain my magic - there isn't _time_-"

She slaps the side of his face. He blinks at the sting and goes quiet, his eyes rolling to finally focus on her again. 

"Did that help?" 

"Oddly, yes," he says, then furrows his brow. "But...the vision is still there."

"You said you left after New York," she says.

"What of it?"

"You were meant to be returned to Asgard and locked up by now."

He raises his eyebrow. "Are you saying that I am experiencing events as if I never left my own timeline?" Despite his attempts at pretending to brush off such a suggestion as madness, he's clearly perturbed.

"I have no idea," she answers honestly. 

"You know what happens after this," he suddenly says. 

"I don't," she corrects. "I wasn't on Asgard at the time."

"Where were you? Here, forsaking your Asgardian blood so that you could make play at blending in with the humans?"

He's beginning to irritate her. "I was actually drinking, mostly. I won't go into the details."

He makes a grasping motion with his hands as he stares up at her. "You don't want me to know."

"We're not exactly friends," she responds.

He goes stiff then, his eyes darting from side to side at something unseen.

"What's happening," she asks.

"The Einherjar are stripping me of my armor," he answers, his voice angry but distant. "I am on display for every common criminal kept in the dungeons. Oh - they have brought me a threadbare tunic to replace them. How kind. I suppose requiring me to use my magic to afford myself some dignity is really a charity amongst the idling I will now be forced to endure."

His sarcasm is cut short as he suddenly rears back. When he settles again, he is blinking rapidly.

"You pissed them off, didn't you," she says. 

He glares at her, but only for a moment before his attention wavers again. He is beginning to shake.

She slaps him harder the second time, ignoring the sick feeling in her gut. Again he is brought back. 

The third time, he asks for the pain himself.

\----------

Carol shows up in person to deliver the news. 

Loki's standing to the side in Valkyrie's living room when she arrives, nursing the new red mark on the side of his face. Or maybe he's trying to make it worse. At any rate, he looks a bit more present than he was that morning.

His posture changes when Carol steps through the door, and he stares in confusion at her armor, the Kree uniform she had made her own. 

"I would have had Scott call you himself, but he's kind of in the middle of a breakdown." Carol darts her eyes to Loki, for just a moment. "He wants to do some testing on the Tesseract. He doesn't think there's any branching pathways that can open any worse than Loki's point of exit, so what he does while he's here doesn't really matter. Just as long as the Tesseract gets back to where it belongs. He's pretty sure he knows where it came from."

"That's good news, at least," Valkyrie says. She jerks her thumb towards Loki. "And what do you think I should do with him in the meantime?"

Carol looks at Loki a bit more closely, clearly noting the developing bruise on his face. She shrugs with a small smile. "Unless you really want us to lock him up or send him back, he can stay here. I think you can handle him."

\-----------

She handles him.

It's not exactly the easiest thing she's ever done, but New Asgard is still small and the infrastructure for it is completed enough to keep things moving along when she falls behind on their plans to expand. Earth is a world of permits, and their usage of the land is subject to strict technical construction guidelines. There are even stringent environmental regulations to consider.

All of that is at least twice as hard to concentrate on with her houseguest constantly attempting to wear a hole in the floor once he's completely healed from the injuries he'd arrived with.

He's not mentioning the weird memory thing anymore, but he's restless, especially now that the Tesseract has been taken out of his reach. He paces her house in long, deliberate strides, his jaw clenched. It sends his cheekbones into contrast with the rest of his face, sharp lines of shadow giving him a razor's edge look. The shadows under his eyes and the nearly faded bruise are the only colors that mark his pale skin. It only makes her more aware of the fact that other than the contents of the beer bottle she'd smashed against his head, he hasn't touched food at all in the time she's had him. 

There’s a viciousness to him that she can almost feel building; a core of anger returns now that he's settling in to the reality of his new situation. As she works on signing paperwork and making calls, he casts her frequent and increasingly infuriated looks.

"You were informed that my presence here is not the cataclysmic event that you surmised," he eventually says.

"Guess not," she responds, her pen scraping across her signature of yet another permit.

His hands slam down against the edge of her table. "Then let me go."

She glances up, raising her eyebrows. "Thor deserves to see you before you run. I sent an email out to him this morning." 

He hisses. "Thor brought me back to Asgard to spend an eternity in the dungeons."

She's not impressed with his rage. "No, he didn't. Isn't that why you're here?"

He blinks, his expression faltering as he's taken aback. He snatches the paper she'd just signed out from her hands, staring at the date she'd written in the lower corner. 

She lowers her pen, watching him in interest. They'd talked about her being in his future, but this is the first time he's been allowed official confirmation of the timeline.

"Over a decade," he says, then lowers the paper and stares around her house with a trapped look. "And you...you are..."

She rises, walking over to him to take the paper back, setting it aside and staring up into his wide eyes. "I am Asgard's King," she answers. 

"A fallen Asgard." The words come like an accusation. "Defeated, scrounging for whatever scraps the mortals will allow."

"And you're my prisoner," she counters, taking a step closer just to relish the flash of defiance. Her skin tingles in readiness. "How does that make you feel?"

She sees the shine of a knife and throws herself back as it comes for her face.

He gives a better show for this fight, using his speed and better reach to try and outmaneuver her. She's unarmed, but she manages to grip his forearm and then kick the second knife from his grasp before punching him in the face hard enough to send him reeling into the table. 

He gathers himself and looks about to come at her again, but then pauses and looks down at the papers she had been studiously working on. She has a moment of panic before with a manic grin he stabs into the spots with her signature, presses his hand over the stack, and tears through them with the blade.

_Now_ she's pissed.

He sneers as she comes at him with his own knife. "Why would Odin appoint _you?_ Did he eventually realize his folly with crowning Thor? Is that why Asgard now remains nothing but dregs?"

She's not going to tell him. But she sees the offense taken there, a gleam of moisture to his eyes that he cannot help - what he is seeing as the sum of his worth to his family and the kingdom. Better even a nameless warrior rule them all then the disgraced second son of the king.

That chip on his shoulder, the one that her Loki had only managed to let go of just before being brutally murdered at Thanos's hands.

It's not going to make her feel any worse about beating the shit out of him.

They thrust and parry. He wears armor and she doesn't, so some of her blows are sacrificed in dodges, and not all of her furniture survives unscathed, but finally she manages to disarm him of the second knife.

His hand comes for her forehead.

She screams and slashes out wildly, forcing him to pull back, and then she's advancing, because she'd _forgotten_, and he'd been leading her on with the conversation so the thoughts would be at the forefront and the memory easier to take from her head. 

She slams him down on his back on the ruined table and holds the edge of the blade to his neck. His chin comes up, baring the length of his throat, and his hands are raised in surrender.

She's not fooled. She grabs his forearm and slams it down, stabbing the knife in deeply through the cloth beneath the armor to pin him, then leaps onto the table and presses her knee into his other wrist to keep him down. 

"Remove your armor," she orders. "None of your magic, either. The old fashioned way."

His eyes are bright with protest, his hands curled into fists. He doesn't struggle, but every muscle of his body is drawn tight. If she lets him go so he can follow her order, she knows for a fact that he’s going to come at her again.

She sighs and grips him harder. 

He gazes at her unblinkingly, so she doesn't miss the snarl, or the fact that his pupils are dilated. She wonders if he hates himself for how he's reacting to her rough handling.

She knocks him out before she can ask.

\----------

He wakes up in his usual spot at the foot of her bed, though now he's been stripped and dressed in a dark navy long-sleeved sweater she'd borrowed from one of the men. The pants are mostly leather, so she's let him keep those - and she's got enough lack of shame to note that it's in part because the view isn't something to be scoffed at. 

He takes one look at the shackles binding him and swallows. 

"You'll sleep better now," she says, standing next to him.

"Oh will I," he responds, and then looks at his hand with a frown. "What did you do to me?"

"I changed your clothes and put you to bed," she says.

"My _hand_," he clarifies.

She has to crouch to see it, but there's a large patch of red at his palm. 

"That's probably from our fight. Don't know what you're moaning about."

He doesn't respond, his gaze set in the middle distance. He starts to shake, like he did the morning he'd ranted about the Einherjar.

"You can't," he finally says. "Burn yourself on the forcefield all you like - there's no escape. This is where you have been damned, and where you will die. A common criminal of Asgard, forgotten. Entombed." He blinks and turns his head in her direction, and she thinks he's trying to look at her but his eyes won't focus. "Help me," he begs, his voice suddenly raw. "I can't tell what is real, I - anything."

She tugs on his hair this time. He grimaces and then shudders, and his eyes finally regain clarity. He breathes shallowly and open-mouthed as he stares at her, anger and more than a little desire fuming in his gaze.

"Oh," she says, "well, isn't this interesting."

She pulls on his hair again, twisting it in her fist until he's forced to arch his neck. His fingers splay against the bedpost, scrabbling for purchase at an awkward angle. Another tug, and she _feels_ the expression he makes in a warmth that pulses in her lower belly. 

"Is this what you've always wanted," she asks, remembering the way he'd looked at her when she'd pinned him against the wall on Sakaar.

"What _I_ want is the freedom to leave your dilapidated village of a kingdom." He makes a strained noise. "Does the Allfather know...his successor is a deviant?"

She doesn't answer - she knows he's digging, trying to find out any information about Odin that she'll let slip. She releases him, and he drops his head, panting against the floor. He stares at her like he's not quite sure she's done beating him.

He also looks like he can't decide which he'd prefer.

She goes to bed. He's quiet for the rest of the night.

\----------

By the end of the week, she's certain Loki's trying to drive her insane. He's discovered what will truly annoy her and is exploiting it to the best of his ability.

He uses his magic to change supply amounts on her papers. He blanks entire stacks of signatures when she's not looking. He deletes her emails, or takes it upon himself to send out responses in her name, so that she has to send multiple apologies and give clarification to the people that she's making deals with.

He breaks her landline phone, the one that had taken _months_ to get anyone out to install in the first place. 

He pours out her beer.

The people know he's there, now. They're a lot more forgiving of his presence than she is. They still remember that he brought the ship that saved them from Hela, and that he helped to provide distraction while the remnants of them escaped the coming of Thanos. No matter that it was his damn fault the Mad Titan had found them.

And none of them seem particularly surprised that he's alive again and suddenly causing trouble when every last one of them had been told of his death, when they'd named him among the fallen during the mass funeral they'd held after landing on Earth. 

After all, they'd twice held such funerals already.

He attempts two more escapes, but Solvi is so eager for this game now that she has begun warning Valkyrie when he tries.

During his second escape, she finds him in the town, a knife in his hand and an astonished expression on his face as Korg stares him down with hands outstretched to block his progress. "We've really missed you, Mr. Loki. But if you could uh, not try to kill anyone during the workday, that would be much appreciated. Some of the boys would probably be up for a good ol' fight if you'd like to wait until after dinner?"

Loki's bafflement keeps him still long enough for her to throw herself down on him from the sky and beat him senseless into the pavement.

"Oh, Miek, look," Korg chirps as she slings his limp body over Solvi's back, "the King's taking a break to help him out. Isn't that nice of her?"

\-----------

They don't have an official prison on New Asgard (yet), but she has the Asgardians and Sakaarians fashion a cell for him in one of the spacious but little-used stalls in the stables, built to withstand even Solvi's rambunctious kicks. She throws Loki into it, the cuffs restraining him again for good measure, and he rolls with the force before coming to a stop against the far wall, his chest shaking with laughter. 

"Become a danger to any of my people again," she warns, "and I'll let the Avengers have you."

He grins at her through bloodied lips, his gaze knowing. "But then you would no longer have the chance of punishing me yourself."

She puts her hands on her hips and looks pointedly around the stall. "You can stay in here for two days," she decides. "Just shout real loud for someone when you find yourself in need of a piss."

That drops some of the smugness from him. And with Solvi in such close proximity as the only other occupant of the stable, he's under the closest watch anyone can manage.

The confinement incenses him, but he's careful and subdued around her for about half a day after his release.

Then, he somehow cuts off the electricity to the entirety of New Asgard. 

If Thor doesn't arrive soon to see that his brother is alive, she's beginning to suspect that she's going to end up killing them both.

\-----------

At the week's end, after a third escape attempt in which Loki had made her dive into the fucking sea to haul him out, she marches him into the bathroom and all but throws him into her shower. 

"Clean yourself up," she snaps, before she slams the door.

She wants to warm herself up with something strong, but she instead forces herself to make tea. 

There aren't any noises coming from the bathroom, and the shower never starts. After a half an hour without any appreciable indication that he even exists anymore, she decides to check on him.

He's sitting on the floor, staring at nothing, eerily still.

"Loki," she says. He doesn't respond. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Experiencing eternity alone," he says, though his voice is far too distracted. "Four white walls. Two energy barriers. A chair. A bed. A washbasin. Mother has begun to send me gifts. She fears I'll grow too thin on gruel...waste away. As if that was not the point."

Valkyrie crouches in front of him. When she reaches her hand out to touch his face, he doesn't react.

His brow creases, and he looks very young in his sorrow. "What did I do wrong? I had been so sure that I could gain Odin's respect. Emulate his actions, his drive, his mercilessness. It was not enough. Nothing was ever enough."

"Loki," she says again.

He speaks as if he's in a trance. "Monster. Murderer. Your own mother gave you Gungnir and yet not even she would seek to punish the Warriors Three or Sif for their treason. Only you. You alone are the fault, the rot within Asgard's walls. No one knows what came after. No one cares to know how you cried out in the dark."

Desperate to stop him, Valkyrie crouches over him and grabs him by the biceps, her fingers digging in bruisingly tight. He gives a little jump, then tries to struggle for a moment before he settles. 

His arms twitch beneath her grip. His eyes meet hers, his pupils blown wide.

"_Harder_," he says, the word a growled challenge.

She does press harder, dragging him to his feet before she presses him against the wall - gentle enough that the tiles won't crack under the force. He breathes heavily, blazing eyes fixed on hers.

"Strip," she orders. "I have to grab something."

He cocks an eyebrow. "And if I don't?"

"I can throw you back into the stables for a few days to keep you quiet. I think you'll have a harder time with the loss than I will."

His eyes grow angrier. It was the wrong thing to say, now his back is all up at her pointing out a weakness, but she's not really in the mood to please him after today. 

She leaves the bathroom to gather rope - she's not going to be constantly on guard for his attacks while they do this, and she needs something a bit more thorough than the simple shackles to ensure he doesn't wriggle too much.

Predictably, he hasn't removed so much as a boot when she returns. His eyes narrow on the coils in her grasp and he swallows.

He tries to affect a sense of being unimpressed. "Are you expecting me to simply cooperate?"

She rolls her eyes. "The day something with you is ever simple is the day the universe ends," she says, then feels a belated chill from the memories the words stir up. "Go ahead. Give me a reason."

He keeps perfectly still. Contrarian bastard, she thinks, but there's something else, a look of unease and distraction creeping onto his face. His thoughts are sliding back to whatever vision haunts him, taking him a little more out of the world he's in.

She circles him - he's not looking at her _at all_ \- and pulls him down onto his knees. The impact with the floor has him returning from his daze with a jerk, but she's already looped his wrists behind him by the time he gains enough sense to try and pull away. She digs her heel sharply into his lower back as a warning, and he gasps and becomes a lot more manageable from that point.

"I believe," he hisses as she pulls the knots tight, "that perhaps there's a further underlying enjoyment you take of this treatment."

"You've been a pain in my ass since the day you showed up," she says, pulling his sweater up and wrapping the cord about his waist and wrists several times to keep his hands firmly pinned. "You've tried to kill me about fifteen times."

He laughs. "You would take it personally? You were a proud warrior, destined to die for the crown. Honored perhaps, but your life was always expendable. How many of your sisters did you watch fall to death? Was it anything like the tales written?"

She knows for a fact that it would not have been. Thor had told her - Odin had done a wondrous job of burying his failures from all who came after.

She steps around him, placing a knife against his collarbone. He smirks up at her, defiant, reckless - _eager._

But it's good, because it means he's in the here and now. 

"And now you have it - power, leadership," Loki taunts. "For what? A small fishing village. Papers and signatures. What war came to Asgard to ruin it so thoroughly that it is forced to submit itself to your inane authority?"

She pulls his head back by his hair, holding the point of the knife against the underside of his chin. He finally goes quiet, but that's only because he's not parting his jaw without impaling himself on the blade.

She gives him a condescending smile. "You don't need to do any more convincing, Odinson. I'll give you what you desire."

His lips twist at the title as he attempts the smallest sound of protest. She ignores him as she moves the knife to his still-damp sweater and uses it to saw the fibers apart, pulling it free from beneath his bonds. The rest of his clothes she allows to stay intact, because she can't quite say goodbye to those pants just yet. And it's worth it for the humiliated flush when she doesn't even allow him to properly help her remove them, instead pushing him to his feet and holding him against the wall with a forearm braced against his stomach as she finishes undressing him.

"But first, we both need cleaning after your latest stunt."

He lets her maneuver him, turning his face away from the shower spray when she pushes him under it. She enters with him and places a hand against his chest, shoving him so his back is to the wall. 

With his hands bound there's not many options for sex in such a small space, but the warm water still feels glorious against her chilled skin. She makes quick work of it, washing them both, ignoring his stirring cock as she digs her nails in with the hand holding him against the wall and feels her own impatience rise.

He stares at her with keen eyes backed with lust as she scrapes soap over his taut stomach. "Are old habits really that hard to break? You have me at your mercy, and still you act only to serve and ensure the safety of those of royal blood."

The dig stokes her ire. Her hand, still slick with soap, finds his throat - she feels him swallow against it. "I think you'll find I _am_ royal blood, now."

Her rage whirls within her, useless and without point. He's an absolute bastard, but the truth of the matter is the reasons that she's becoming vexed are because she is still seeing him as if he was the Loki she knew, and now he's just disregarding everything that they'd done together.

That Loki is gone, dead, and never returning. This one has no idea what the hell he's gotten himself into, or how lucky he is to possibly be spared that fate.

It cuts her deep. They hadn't been close, not really, but she can't imagine the look in Thor's eyes if he finds out that he'd had the chance to reunite with any incarnation of his brother and she'd gone and fucked it up. 

Miracle of miracles, Loki's stopped talking. His pulse pounds beneath her fingers, and he's growing harder. She's a bit impressed - in her experience, normally it takes more for her to get someone's engine revving. There's something naked in his eyes that he can't quite hide - for all his talk about her serving him, in this moment she'd bet her left breast that he'd fall to his knees in a heartbeat if she asks it of him.

But she's not going to make it that easy.

She reaches for his length with her free hand, and gives him a few slow strokes to bring him to full hardness. He squirms, forearms flexing against his restraints. She releases him and leans out of the shower, dripping water onto the floor as she reaches for more rope. She wraps one end snug about the base of his cock and balls, the pressure of the bondage indenting his flesh. 

"Not...terribly inventive," he says, his voice tight.

She rolls her eyes and pulls sharply downwards.

He all but crumples to his knees before her with a shout, and then squirms and pants as he struggles to manage the pain. 

"That's more like it," he says, breathless, then seizes and chokes out a thin noise as she carefully digs her heel into the line still extending to her hand.

"Stay," she says, then leaves him there as she washes her hair.

\----------

Now that they're really into it, he looks vaguely terrified of her.

Funny, because he hadn't reacted that way any of the other times she'd beaten the shit out of him. 

But she supposes having a leash strung to your genitals would be an eye-opener for a lot of people.

She keeps herself immovable. She doesn't act with shock at his taunts or perversions - she's heard it all before, having lived several thousand years on a planet devoted to hedonism. She gives him the space to fight her but not to pull free.

She knows he still wants the knowledge that is in her head. He wants to stir up her memories and see what he can use against her, what will give him enough to finally break her hold, and to know the present condition of his counterpart.

"You don't need to worry about it, you know," she points out, pressing him down with a harsh hand on the back of his neck so the spray rinses his hair - he'd been in _dire_ need of some deep conditioning. "There's not going to be any openings for you right now for anything except enduring whatever it is I want to do to you."

He shudders, open-mouthed, as she makes the rope dig in tight against him, keeping him present. His eyes move in and out of clarity as she overwhelms him with sensation, making sure to keep the intensity of the pressure changing, raising it each time he begins to adjust.

She can see him twisting his wrists and searching for the knots to his bonds with his fingers as she finishes cleansing him. She'd very carefully kept them out of his reach when she'd bound him, and the rope itself is unbreakable and unable to be tampered with by magic. 

When she's done, she turns the water spray off and hooks her hand into the hair at the base of his skull to pull him upright. Her heel is still grinding the leash into the floor of the shower, keeping him very still on his knees. 

He stares at the spot between her legs and doesn't dare move.

She notices where his gaze has fallen. For a moment she wonders if she should laugh, deny him, but instead she finds herself giving him an encouraging tug - in both areas. His breath squeezes in a thready sound from his lungs, the tendons in his neck pressing against his skin and creating a curving path to his collarbone, droplets of water catching in the hollows.

"Go ahead," she says after he's relaxed. "You've earned it."

He darts a gaze up, then carefully moves forward, pressing the flat of his tongue against her folds, drawing it up to her clitoris. A jolt rocks her. She pulls him closer, which moves him sharply against the rope around his cock and balls. He lets out a breath of explosive air as he fights not to move back, to submit himself to the grip of the tether in order to keep from causing himself additional pain.

"Come on," she says in a teasing voice. "Don't worry about it so much. Trust me, your bits are a lot more sturdy than you think."

His snarled response is quickly lost in the high and plaintive noise he makes at her next tug. His cock is engorged with trapped blood, the waves of pain and pleasure ratcheting up. He presses his tongue into her with more firmness when the pain fades enough that he can move again.

She alternates tormenting him and taking her pleasure. He keeps his legs spread wide and his pelvis canted at an angle, but she only increases the pressure each time she notices him finding relief. Finally he's unable to continue, to do anything but take in shallow pants and shudder and curl against the grip of the hand in his hair. 

"You're not finished yet," she says, watching him struggle to breathe.

"I can't," he grinds out, and she yanks down at his hair so he's forced to tilt his head up. 

"Do you want me to stop?" she asks. Her nipples have hardened, droplets gathering over their curves. His eyes lock onto them in sudden hunger. 

She trails a finger up his cheek, catching water from the shower or tears, she doesn't know which. His eyes do look rather red.

He sucks in one breath, then another, and then finally seems to get ahold of himself. He leans back in.

Another tug has him howling. When he dives back in his ministrations are sloppier, more frantic, but it's exactly the build-up she needs. She hooks one leg over his shoulder to give him a better angle, her hands holding tight to his hair as he laps over her clit in desperation, keening and straining against his bonds, until she grinds against his face and sends herself over the edge.


	2. Chapter 2

She doesn't let him come, even though she knows it wouldn't take much effort. That's not really what he needs, though he looks plenty disgruntled when he realizes that his release is not on the table.

She carefully unwinds the sodden rope from his length, the dusky color that saturates it slow to fade. She towels him off, careful around the rawer parts of his skin. His hands are clenched beneath the restraints. All of the knots are still tightly in place when she reaches to check them. She has a moment to feel smug about that before she leaves to fetch them each a cup of tea, placing them in her bedroom before she returns to move him.

She unties his wrists from his back and replaces the shackles, giving him a good foot of chain for leeway. She hands him a pair of pants - black silk, terrible for warmth, but easier on any lingering tenderness. They'd been a gift for him from Korg, who didn't necessarily require functional Midgardian clothing for working outdoors, being made of rocks - and as such shopped at places that carried items of what he considered a more discerning quality.

He hadn't actually been quite far off the mark with the pajamas he'd given her for Loki.

"You're dressing me, now," he says, even as he pulls the garment up over slim hips, carefully knotting the drawstring.

"Half of you, anyway," she says, not bothering to hide her open ogling. The pants still slide down far enough that the line of his hips jut over the top, and the curve of his ass is nearly exposed. 

She wonders if he's positioning them that haphazardly on purpose, now that he knows she's not averse to more adventurous interactions with him.

He looks at the tea she holds up to him with narrowed eyes. "What is that?"

"It's tea," she says, still feeling a bit too loose from the sex to get properly irritated.

"Tea," he repeats, making no move to grab it. There are still reddened marks from the braids of rope all along his waist and wrists. His arms are drawn in close to his body as he attempts to conserve heat and not be obvious about it. 

The sight stirs something deep within her, makes her want another go. She knows he can take it. But she just shrugs. "It sounded like you ingested about half a gallon of seawater earlier."

He curls a lip. "You mean when you pounced upon me and held my head beneath the water."

"That was just gravity," she answers, refusing to feel bad about it. She'd warned him, after all, and he just kept trying to escape. "You need something to even out the salt."

"Oh, is this your idea of comfort?" Loki holds up his hands to display the shackles on his wrists. "There is metal scraping my flesh raw, but that does not matter, because you are gifting me with a cup of _steeped leaves_ to make everything better." 

He's visibly shivering, now, the cold beginning to get to him. He glares at her like he dares her to comment on it, his teeth nearly chattering.

She’s going to have to start lighting the fireplace to warm the house earlier in the season, it seems.

"I gave you what you wanted," she answers. "Now I want you to do something for me."

"Yes, how selfish of me to perform cunnilingus while you attempted to castrate me."

"I'll stop," she says. "I can put you back in the stables. Keep you isolated until your brother comes." She sneers a little. "No more 'threats of castration.' No more 'harder,' no more pain."

Predictably, he stops his protests and looks distinctly unhappy about that prospect, though he's clearly unwilling to admit just how much.

A sigh hisses from between his parted teeth. He holds out his hands for the cup.

"No," she says, "on second thought, I don't want to give you the chance to throw it at me."

He snarls. "Then what-"

For the second time that day, she forces him to his knees. He's not pliable now - his eyes widen in outrage and he surges up against her grip, forcing her to carefully keep the cup in her hand steady as she holds him down.

She tilts her head as he finally stops fighting. "Done?" She holds the rim of the cup to his lips.

He glares up at her as he drinks it down, the liquid cooled enough by now that it slides easily down his throat.

"I think I'd like to kill you," he says when she puts the cup aside. "Even more than I did before."

"Keep trying." She pulls him to the bedpost, adjusting the shackles so he's pinned there again. "It won't accomplish anything. You'll be just as alone as if I had locked you away in the stables."

He doesn't answer, but she can see the angry curve to his back as he seethes in silence. She drapes a thick blanket over him and goes to finish up the paperwork he'd interrupted.

\-----------

She needs to have a talk with her people, to let them know what's going on. Their calm acceptance of the secrecy surrounding Loki's return is disquieting in a way that has hounded her since he showed up. One or two of the Sakaarians have questioned his appearance, but that had only been simple curiosity on their parts, and they hadn't pursued the subject when she didn't quite give a straight answer.

She stows Loki back into the makeshift cell in the stables. 

"I was not planning on causing trouble," he protests as she closes him in, which is laughable after the week of fun he's had doing precisely that.

Solvi is standing at her shoulder, staring curiously as Loki is locked in the stall she only uses when she's in need of shelter from harsh weather.

"That's weak even for you," Valkyrie says. "You can drop the sad eyes. You deserve worse than this."

He blanks his face, fists clenched beneath the shackles. "Was this always your intention? To lock me away once you'd had your fun?"

Oh, now she gets it. "Norns above, it's only _for the afternoon,_ you absolute dramatic bastard." She shakes her head, scratching at the join of the wing at Solvi's shoulder. "Keep an eye on him."

Most of the denizens of New Asgard gather in the Meeting Hall. (Valkyrie refuses to call it the Throne Room.) She stands at the head of the group, on a raised platform so she can better see each of her people. They watch her quietly, some murmuring, but not loud. They're trusting and respectful.

She's going to do her best to live up to the image that she deserves any of that behavior. "So, as all of you have noticed, Loki has returned. But he's not the same Loki you knew. He comes from a different time."

There's a reaction now - a frisson of nervous confusion. They remember the power behind their last encounters with time travel.

She continues. "As I understand it, this is just another aftershock of the reversal of Thanos's Snap. The Avengers traveled back to Loki's invasion of New York to borrow the infinity stones. Obviously, they didn't take the possibility of mischief into proper account."

Someone speaks up, a woman with dark braided hair. "So...the prince is still dead?"

"Yes," Valkyrie answers. She's quiet for a moment, taking a moment to let the reminder of that knowledge sink in for herself as much as her people. "I think we should all agree to not speak to him of our Loki's death. I've been told that he can remain in this timeline for now, but there might be some issues...we're still trying to figure them out."

A man's voice comes from the back of the room. "Does Thor know?"

"No," she answers. "But I've sent a message to him. Hopefully he will return soon."

Another frisson - she can't help but notice the growing unease in it, instead of the reassurance and joy she's expecting.

They quiet when she raises her hand. "What's the problem?"

There's an awkward silence, gazes meeting each other, until one brave soul near the front speaks up. "Your Majesty...Prince Thor rarely improves upon his brother's temperament."

So they weren't quite as oblivious to the royal workings as expected. She feels mildly better.

"That's a good point," she admits, remembering Loki's face at the mere mention of Thor. "But Thor is wiser now. He has swayed his brother in the past." She shrugs. "Who knows...maybe he can fast track this one with the knowledge he has now."

One of the men standing at the wall speaks. "And what do you wish of us in the meantime?"

"Nothing really. Keep an eye out for Loki, and treat him with respect. Report to me any suspicious interactions. If you see him running, tell me - do not attempt to pursue him yourselves."

Korg raises his hand. "Sorry to interrupt. Uh, what about that Eldritch hocus pocus user who lives in the next town over? The one that helped set us up with our new homes? Me and Miek could head down and see if she has any insights to help us out."

Valkyrie pauses. She hadn't considered that. 

It had been years since they'd last met with the seer. There's a possibility she's not even living in the same spot.

Ordinarily Valkyrie would rather avoid her people causing too much of a stir among the Midgardians, even one who used magic. But...

"I'm not sure we'd have the resources for trading for anything useful," she answers. "But it can't hurt to check."

"I promise I won't go over the royal budget," Korg says with an eager smile. 

"Korg, for the last time, there is no royal budget. It's the money we _have_, as a people."

"Might need one now," one of the Asgardians says. "Prince Loki was never known for his abstinence from opulence."

She thinks of the way Loki had gelled on Sakaar under the Grandmaster's graces, sliding into luxury and decadence like an eel in water. "Don't I know it."

\-----------

Loki doesn't have any visible visions for another couple of days, and Valkyrie hesitantly starts to feel a bit foolish, wondering if she'd been overly concerned in figuring out a task that wasn't even a problem anymore.

He's not exactly overjoyed about being her prisoner, but after she's true to her word and releases him from the stables, he gives the whole attack or run plan a rest for a bit. She's able to get work done while he quietly mills about her house, looking less intensely feverish, some of the quiet contemplation returning to his eyes. 

Still, there's something wrong about him, and she can't quite put her finger on it. She knows better than to trust the quiet.

At some point on the third day, his movements come to rest closer to her. The trouble starts with a question. "Are there no books in this hovel?"

She doesn't look up from her work. "Most of the information here is found on computers."

"Yes, I have been on Earth before," he says. "I know of the drivel contained by their internet. I meant the books of Asgard."

She sighs and looks up at him - this actually still counts as a good mood, for this version of Loki. But he's pushing it. "They're gone."

"Gone?" He narrows his eyes. "What, did you sell them for fish?"

"No, I mean they're gone. They burned. All of them."

He waves a hand dismissively. "They couldn't have burned. The library was protected by the strongest of spells. Flame would not have withered them."

She remembers the sight of Surtur's gargantuan inferno. "It was no ordinary fire."

"Someone must have grabbed something," he insists.

"There wasn't time," she says. "It's gone. All of it. The books. The library. The entire palace."

"How," he hisses, a growing fear in his eyes. "How could Asgard’s people be so shortsighted to simply allow millennia of history to disintegrate? What brought Asgard's destruction?" 

She wonders if he suspects Thanos. Thor had maintained his suspicions about the force behind Loki's invasion of Earth, proven by Thanos zeroing in on Loki on the Statesman and manipulating him the way he knew it would hurt the most - through Thor. 

Thanos must have seen it, Loki's love for his brother, must have known how to use the information the most effectively to gain what he desired.

But Thanos was not the true answer to his question. 

"You will only know," she answers, "once I am absolutely certain that we do not need to return you."

"You already received your answer," Loki argues.

"That was before I realized that your visions were recurring." She moves to her feet. "You've been keeping it in, but I can tell. You're being odd."

"Why wouldn't I be, when every time I try to escape you take it as encouragement to beat me senseless," he says.

"No, I take protecting Earth from whatever mischief you'd get up to as encouragement to beat you senseless." She gestures to his feet. "You haven't left this section of the floor in hours. It's like..." She frowns as she finally realizes what's been bothering her about his behavior. "You're acting like you're trapped in a cell."

He bares his teeth and lurches back from her, eyelids fluttering. "No." In his haste his hand slams against a lamp and it crashes to the ground. 

He stares down at it for several moments, then purposefully slams his hand against the bulb, cracking it against his fist and tearing the shards deeply into his palm.

He's already bleeding all over her floor when she rushes over and yanks him up. "What the hell are you doing?"

"It's not real," he responds, eyes wild as he digs his nails into the open wounds and stuck glass with a shudder, more blood pouring out. "This is - some spell you have placed on me, to keep me confused."

"I just told you all the spellbooks were destroyed," she shoots back.

"But you have knowledge," he snarls. "Asgard's magic ran through its people like breathing. You imbue the cords you used to restrain me. You see my attacks before they will come."

"I just have a lot of experience," she corrects. "Specifically with hunting and catching people. And Asgard was not where I learned to hone those particular skills. You're not going to find much in the way of magecraft on New Asgard."

"Then what is the _point?_ Why come here at all?"

"Survival," she answers. "I think you'd know all about that." 

She lets him go, heading to the bathroom for bandages. He backs away as she returns, but stops after a few steps - as if there's an invisible barrier behind him. His fingers are back to pushing sharply against the wound in his palm, keeping it spread and open.

"Let me bandage that," she says. "And then I can give you something better."

She can practically see his pupils dilate at her offer, but he keeps his expression like stone, his limbs unmoving.

"I'm not going to manhandle you through my house again. You've done enough damage to my things." She takes another step, cornering him against whatever invisible wall he senses. "But you've disobeyed me. I told you that you weren't allowed to become a danger to any of my people. That _includes you._"

His lips part, his eyes searching her face. 

"So pick your punishment," she says. "A night or two alone in the stables. Or you come with me, and let me convince you not to be so fucking stupid ever again. Your choice." She turns away from him and walks into her bedroom. "By the way, I'm giving you to the count of ten to make your decision."

She pretends to ignore him after that, instead stripping the blankets from her bed and gathering one of her scarves and a belt, anything on hand that she thinks would be of use. She knows of a place where she'd find better, but she's not willing to go that far just yet.

She turns and finds that Loki has followed her, but he hasn't stepped over the threshold into her room. His eyes are on the floor and there is a look of intense concentration on his face.

"Take it you want the stables, then?"

"_No,_" he says, abruptly, and inches forward just a bit more before he stops, working his jaw.

She belatedly realizes the problem. Another side to his imagined cell.

She approaches him, her hand seeking his forearm. "It's not real," she says. "Look at our hands. There's no barrier in front of you. You can move forward."

"To burn my flesh, and call down the guards besides. I'm sure Odin would love the chance to come down for another stern gloat."

She digs her nails sharply into his forearm. The soft sweater he wears provides little protection against her strength. He grinds his teeth at the pain, then looks at her again. 

She speaks commandingly. "Step forward."

Another dig of her fingers and he manages to break through whatever vision holds him and pass over the invisible line, and though he looks briefly uncomfortable, his expression soon passes into one of relief.

She's liking this less and less, and she knows she really needs to figure out what the fuck is going on before it gets any worse. Maybe it's not just the time jump - maybe he _has_ been bespelled by something, and she's making it worse by not allowing him to figure a way out. 

She pulls his injured hand forward, picking the glass free and wiping it clean of excess blood, before wrapping it firmly.

"You're not to touch that for the rest of the evening," she says, adopting the tone she used to take when training new valkyrie recruits. "You're a prince of Asgard - you shouldn't be falling short like this. Take off your sweater."

This time he follows her orders, baring himself. She can see the lines of muscles gripped tight to his ribs. It definitely looks like he's grown thinner since that day in the bathroom.

"I'm disappointed, really," she says, reaching up to pinch sharply into one of his nipples. He gives a muffled noise in response, reaching out as if to steady himself against her, like he can't decide whether or not he wants to fight back. His hands fall short of touching her. "There's so much potential in you."

"Yes, well, it seems I have a knack for defying people's expectations," he says, and there's a hint of bitterness to his tone. "I am not here to be used by you. Whatever this arrangement you are hoping to instate-"

He breaks off with a gasp as she digs her nails into his chest on the opposite side. "You can leave whenever you like."

His lips twist. "Whereupon you will have me strung up in chains and thrown into the barn to be guarded by your beast of a mount."

"I meant _this._ Us. If you'd rather I kept you in the stables-"

"Enough. This is hardly a choice."

"But you're going to have to make it anyway," she says. "I know - it's humiliating, admitting what you want. But I can guarantee you, whatever filthy desires are floating in your head, the pain and the pleasure all tangled together - I've seen it. And I've seen much, much worse."

"And what exactly are you getting out of this?"

"I thought you knew." She grips her hand into the side of his neck. "A valkyrie, putting one of the royal line in their place. And royal or not, there's not many Asgardians out there that would enjoy this type of treatment." She shrugs. "It also helps that you're not too hard on the eyes. Now. On your knees."

He swallows hard, working his jaw. She sees the moment he decides to acquiesce, the lines of his body softening ever so slightly. First he folds one long leg, then the other. He tilts his head back so he can keep her face in his sight.

It's not going to be an option for him for much longer. 

She grabs the scarf she's set aside, folding it over itself, before bringing it towards his face. She can see him swallow again as the dark blue fabric is bound in place over his eyes, as she makes up for the thickness of it by tugging particularly hard on the knots to ensure their hold. Blind, the angle of his jaw stands out in stark contrast.

She grabs for the belt, folding it over itself. "Where are you now? And I'm only accepting right answers."

"I..." His head swivels, blindly searching.

She lashes out at his chest, leaving a reddening imprint. He bares his teeth, keeping any reaction beyond that ruthlessly suppressed. The softness is gone, now, his muscles standing out in sharp relief.

She takes one step to the side. Her nerves are already beginning to sing their pleasure. "Where are you now?"

His voice is tense. "I am in a room. In your house."

"Where, exactly?"

He hesitates. She snaps out the belt again and leaves a stripe of red across both thighs. A grunt pulls from his throat, his cock twitching. He squirms on his knees, struggling to manage the pain.

"I was thinking on my answer," he grinds out.

"I'm only accepting right answers in a timely manner," she says, actively beginning to circle him. "Tell me where you are. Be as descriptive as possible."

He takes in a deep breath, nosing the air, a new tension in him as he tries to follow her position. "New Asgard, which is in Norway, which is on Midgard. I am in your poorly heated bedroom, within a pitiful excuse for a hovel."

"Good," she responds. "Next question: what is one of your favorite foods?"

She sees his brow wrinkle over the blindfold. "What does that have to do with anything?"

She brings the belt down sharply against his upper back. He folds forward over his knees in the instinctive urge to escape.

"The questions will only be coming from me. Now, back up," she orders. "You must have had training. Straighten and keep yourself still. Control yourself."

He blows air out through his mouth, muscles cording in his arms and back, a humiliated flush creeping along his skin. He raises himself back up, fisting his hands against his thighs.

"A food you enjoy," she demands. "Tell me."

"Fruit," he snaps, clearly irritated. 

"Be more specific."

"Grapes. Melon."

"Anything else? Name something more substantial, like a particular meat."

"Pheasant," he says, reluctantly. "Previously fish, but that was before I was forced to remain in a place clogged with the stench of it."

She doesn't punish him for that, irritating as it is. She knows he's expecting it, and she's not planning on letting him call the shots.

She files the information away, and decides that's enough for now on the food front.

"Do you have much experience with sex?"

The indignation shows in the flush that quickly spreads even further over his skin. "Obviously," he hisses.

She ignores his anger. "Ever have a relationship that includes anything like this?"

"I fail to see how that is any of your business."

She sees him brace himself before she snaps the belt twice against his belly, raising welts just on each side of his hardening cock. He jerks with a pained wheeze.

"Yes or no."

He doesn't answer, still struggling to gasp over his hurts.

She brings down the belt directly against his arousal. His breath punches out of him and he clamps his hands over his cock and screams, "Yes!"

She watches him swear and tremble. He still hasn't moved from his position, and she feels absurdly proud of him.

When she thinks he's calmed enough to hear her again, she circles him again. "So this is a longstanding inclination." 

That was good to know. She'd had her suspicions, but the confirmation was soothing. 

It’s not just her.

She leans down behind him, speaking intently into his ear. "By the way, you're not allowed to touch yourself without permission from now on."

He shudders at the caress of breath against the shell of his ear. His skin breaks out in goose flesh.

She caresses the top of his head, gently pressing her fingers in to massage his scalp. "So, what are you waiting for? Move your hands."

"You could simply bind me," he says, finally moving to obey her, revealing the reddened flesh of his cock.

She warms at his compliance. "I could. But the whole point of this exercise is to observe your control. To keep your focus on one thing."

"And what is that?"

She pulls the belt across his throat, applying gentle pressure. She sees his fingers twitch, but his hands remain fisted over his thighs.

She gives him a pleased look that he can’t see. "The pleasure of your King."

His responding swallow presses against leather. His cock grows even harder.

She draws back, shaking out the belt. "That's enough questions for now. I want you to take the next several blows without breaking position."

He stiffens. "What was the point of avoiding the punishment if you are simply going to do whatever you want?"

"I just gave you the answer to that question. And," she lashes the belt over his side, raising a firm welt across his ribs, "there's always the chance you could make this worse."

She paints him. He colors beautifully beneath the blows, jerking and hissing, but carefully quiet besides. He does not bend forward again, though it's clear he wants to, especially when she rounds to his front and he looks as if he is holding back his hands from clamping over his cock in self-preservation with sheer force of will. She doesn't hit him there again, liking the apprehension, the hard line to his mouth as he heaves in air through his nose, only allowing himself to part his lips as she slams the belt across his nipples.

When she's done, he's quivering all over, breathing as if he had just finished a hard race. His erection sits tall against his belly, the single red welt against the underside a matching mark to the rest of his wounds. She hadn't hit him hard enough to draw blood in any instance, so the pain would be fast to fade with his healing.

She runs the leather against the raw flesh on his cock. He jerks, a high noise pressing against the inside of his throat. His nails dig into his thighs.

She really wants to fuck him like this, but she needs to double check his state first. "Where are you?"

He opens his mouth and gulps in a breath before answering. "Midgard. New Asgard. House. Bedroom."

"Whose house?"

"Yours," he pants.

"I'm going to take you to the bed, now," she says. "You're going to lay on your back, and keep your hands clamped over the headboard."

He follows her guiding hand, wincing as his back makes contact with the sheets of her bed. She taps at his wrist and he obediently reaches for the headboard, enhancing the curve of the hollows of his ribcage and stomach. The swelling and bruises that mark his chest and nipples stand out in stark contrast to his pale skin. 

She divests herself of her clothes - and he's right, of course, the room is cold, and her skin peppers with goosebumps.

She'll just have to warm herself up.

She straddles him, sees him go tense as she grabs his erection. Maybe he's expecting more pain, something like the leash she'd applied the other day. When she angles him inside of her his mouth falls open in something like stunned amazement, his breathing immediately growing fast before he struggles to control himself, tries his hardest to shut off those windows into his emotions.

She doesn't think he's going to be able to manage it for long, especially because she's going to do everything in her power to make sure he doesn't.

When she begins grinding herself on him, she knows that her game is still spot on. Loki has a much harder time with the stillness with the pleasure as compared to the pain. Frustration spills into each muscle and tendon as he struggles to stay unmoving, and not thrust up as she raises and lowers herself on his length. She keeps her gaze on his face, on the cloth snug against his eyes, and presses her hand against herself to aid in chasing her own orgasm. When she speeds her pace, he catches his lower lip into his teeth and rumbles out a low moan.

She sees his hands flex, his fingers raising and lowering from the headboard, failing her orders for only half-seconds before his brain catches up and he readjusts his hold on the wood. She wonders what those restless hands would feel like against her clit, imagines its them touching her instead of her own fingers, and feels the warmth inside her spread upwards in a sharp bloom. 

She leaves bruises on his side where she braces herself, little crescents of blood from the bite of her nails nestled in the center of the marks.

He's still fighting to obey, his body stiff as a board as he takes in air in gasps.

"You'd like to come, wouldn't you," she asks.

He makes a choked noise in between shallow breaths. "What...do you...think?"

She pinches sharply at his nipple, keeping her hold on it with rising pressure. "I think someone's forgetting the rules."

He grunts, his hands going white-knuckled against the headboard as his back arches against her grip. She feels his cock push deeper with the movement. 

She bears down her weight and locks her thighs to keep his hips pinned. "Well?"

"_Please,_" he grinds out, head shaking against the pillow. "Yes."

"Good boy," she murmurs. 

She rides him hard, her hands braced over his chest. His entire body jerks against her movements, his hands struggling to stay where she's commanded them as his pleasure rises. The noises he makes go straight to her clit, all that lithe muscle writhing beneath her painting such a pretty picture.

She decides to add more color, bending down and catching the skin of his neck between her teeth, biting down.

He cries out as he comes. 

\----------

The next morning, she calls him to breakfast. In addition to her usual fare, there are grapes on the table. The look he gives her is unreadable, but he eats the entire bowl and some eggs besides and quietly thanks her when he is finished.

\----------

Korg and Miek finally return later that day. Loki is entertaining himself by thoroughly rifling through all of her paperwork - she'd warned him that if she found even one paper out of place that she'd put him in the stables for a week. He'd raised an eyebrow and ignored her, curiously continuing to nose about.

When the knock at the door comes, he darts his gaze up in wariness, papers piled beneath his forearms. His eyes narrow, until she walks by and kicks at his leg.

"Don't get up," she orders. 

He stiffens, indignant, but complies without complaint.

Korg smiles and Miek waves in greeting when she opens the door. "Hey, King, we're back. The hocus pocus user gave me this letter for you, free of charge and everything."

She's surprised, not having expected any additional help from the witch. She tears the seal from the letter and unfurls it. There's only two lines of words.

_He's going to run again. If you want to really help him, let him go._

_Any questions, come and see me._

It's not even signed. Valkyrie thanks Korg and Miek as she dismisses them and then reads further over the letter. But she knows there's no hidden meaning - the suggestion is as clear as day. And from a seer, no less. 

Loki's not watching her, pretending to keep his eyes on the documents in his lap - but she knows he must be paying attention. She carefully disposes of the paper, shredding it into tiny pieces. If he had the resources and time she knows he could possibly manage to develop a spell to bring it back to its whole state, but he won't find much to help him in her house.

Somehow the entire afternoon passes without an incident. He doesn't stop reading, but he's present, almost relaxed. He even thanks her, if distractedly, when she brings him food and drink. 

She spends the entire day tearing herself apart in her own thoughts, resisting the path she's been recommended. Even though the witch had once been a great help to the Asgardians, Valkyrie doesn't personally know her. She doesn't know the woman's loyalties. Doesn't know what drives her. 

She's at her desk looking over the plans and budget for a new building in their small town when she notices that Loki is not in the house.

Her heart jumps. She wanders into each room, just to be sure. By the time Solvi is neighing wildly in the stables, she knows he's running.

She stands in the middle of her house, torn between her choices.

Loki has no reason to expect she won't pursue him. He'll want to keep a low profile, and not draw attention to himself with mindless violence.

She goes to Solvi, who already stands outside the stables waiting with ears perked.

"We're trying something different," she reluctantly says, her hand resting against the broad white neck. Dark eyes bore into her, and she tries not to let her uncertainty show on her face. "I'll let you know if I change my mind."

It rains that night, and the next day. She sleeps poorly. The people seem to know something is up, but they don't ask questions. 

She almost wishes they would. 

She thinks of Thor while she works, and sincerely hopes she hasn't made her first giant mistake of her kingship. 

\----------

The storm worsens the second night. Valkyrie is about to head out to check that Solvi has sought proper shelter (and she's _not_ intending on sending her after Loki, she tells herself). 

But she never makes it through the door, because when she opens it, Loki is standing directly outside, still wearing the sweater he'd been dressed in when he'd left. 

He looks _wrecked,_ soaked to the bone, wild-eyed and pale. A hollowness saps the edges of his usual liveliness. He shivers, and sways as if in a daze.

She swallows, a churning in her stomach. If he's being pursued by anyone, they aren't here yet. She thinks she was right to expect that he would be keeping a low profile.

Then she notes the blood dripping down his hand.

She grabs at his forearm and he hisses, and when she pulls his sleeve up she finds the flesh of his arm carved to ribbons, horizontal slashes parting his skin. They start low, neat and precise, then grow deeper as they travel up his forearm. 

"I had to," he grits out as she stares at the wounds in shock. "It wouldn't - I could not focus. I had to _fight_ just for movement. But it doesn't work, not as well as..." His eyes are beginning to go glazed, staring at something that she can't see.

She speaks firmly. "Where are you?"

His eyelids flutter at her voice, and his brow creases. His tone comes out as deadened as the rest of him looks. "Remove your spell."

She frowns and reaches for his jaw but he rips free and surges passed her into the house before she can touch him. 

She folds her arms, staring at his turned back, at the way the blood drips from his fingers onto the floor beneath him. "I told you, there isn't any spell."

He faces her, and now some of the energy is seeping back into him, but it's all desperation. "Name your price. I think you'll find me amenable to most arrangements."

"You mean amenable to having the fucking skin flayed from your arm? If I were to have placed a spell upon you, the terms would already be fully detailed."

He narrows his eyes. "What is the point of me seeing Thor? Are you hoping that he'll kill me so that you do not have to dirty your hands and do it yourself? You will be disappointed."

"No one is trying to kill you. The opposite, actually."

"So you would have me believe that this is charity."

"Usually charity involves a bit less kicking and screaming from the receiving parties."

"We are in agreement there. How long before Thor arrives?"

She goes quiet for a moment. "We don't know."

A new suspicion grows in his eyes. "Is this another lie?" He gazes around her house. "Thor was disgustingly enamored of Earth, and now our people are here, too. Did he truly seek to abandon all of that?" He pauses, and swallows, his voice going flat. "But...perhaps not unprecedented. He does like to change his mind."

She shakes her head, remembering the quiet sorrow in Thor’s eyes as he’d named her Asgard’s King. "He needed time. A new purpose."

Loki laughs, and the sound is harsh and acerbic. "So, the plan you would have me believe is that you wish for me to stay here to meet Thor, but you do not know his location or how long it will even take him to return once you have found him."

"He can summon the Bifrost," Valkyrie says. 

"What?"

"He has a weapon that can summon the Bifrost. The problem is getting the message out at all." She shrugs. "We were meant to be able to contact him easily in the event of an issue, but he hasn't responded to any of the emails I've sent."

Loki’s brow crinkles. "So perhaps he's dead."

Valkyrie lets out a breath of amusement. "I don't think there's anything in the universe that could kill your brother at this point."

"Oh, I am sure I could think of a few things."

"That wouldn't turn out well for you. Especially considering whatever is going on inside your head."

"Then _remove it!_"

"I can't," she says, feeling the distress growing. "This is the way that things are for now. We just have to hope that it's not permanent."

Loki stares at her through wide eyes. He abruptly darts back past her towards the door, pulling it wide.

But he doesn't leave.

Shoulders quivering, his knuckles clenched white against the handle, he stares out at New Asgard and the sea that borders it and does not make another move forward.

"I will find a way to free myself," he promises. "And when I do-"

"I don't think you're going to want to finish that sentence," she says sharply. 

"You must be cleverer than I have given you credit for," Loki says, unconcerned with her threat. "Or perhaps merely more persuasive. Thor gone, and the second prince snared in a noose." He looks at her sidelong. "Are you using me to lure Thor back in?"

She's surprised at the words, and even more surprised that the answer is not a definitive no. Loki's gaze is keen, and he's half-mad and full of rage as deep as anything, but he can see things about her that she doesn't quite realize.

Because she can't lie to herself - she would like to see Thor again. To have the ability to pull him back to her. Not to convince him to lead the people, he'd made his choice about that and she'll respect it. But after the Snap she'd hardly seen him beyond the few drunken vents she'd been - rather unwillingly - forced to be audience to. She'd been fighting her own alcoholism at the time, which hadn't helped.

She can’t begrudge him his behavior. Thor hadn't had the chance to go off and grieve on a planet in secret where no one even knew his name. He'd been changed by the events at the Battle for Earth, started to regather some of the pieces, but that shadow remained, the quiet sadness. 

She wants to see him better. She wants to see him smile.

She has a feeling she's not going to get either of those things, especially considering the route that Loki is going down. She knows that more drastic actions need to be taken at this point, but fuck if she knows what those are.

_"Prince Thor rarely improves upon his brother's temperament."_

But who in the Eight Realms would? 

\-----------

_Thor sobs into her shoulder, seeping wetness into her clothes. "The fool, the _fool,_ it's my fault, I convinced him to stay, I told him to be more than he was, and he died within a day."_

_Valkyrie finds it hard to keep the awkwardness out of her voice, but she does her best. It wasn't as if it was her place to judge how Thor grieved. "He helped to save our people."_

_"He should _be_ here, amongst our people. Keeping everyone on their toes, using that bright mind to help us move forward. All my life, I knew that even if I became king, I was never meant to rule without him. And like a damn child, I resented it. I thought I knew better."_

_She keeps back her thoughts. Instead, she simply says, "Your Majesty, I have to check on some deliveries." _

_They were trying to rebuild Asgard by integrating their technologies using Earth-found materials. It was a slow-going process. Her most pressing concern is ensuring that those left among their people were well outfitted with armor and weapons._

_Thor draws back, blinking rapidly. He sniffs, brows drawing down as he tries to contain himself. "Right. See to our people. I will...I will begin work in the morning. I just need...a few more hours. I'll see you tomorrow."_

_At the end of the next week, with no sign of her king, she tells Korg and Miek to move in with Thor, claiming that they're tight on occupancy space. They report his living existence to her every so often, and when she does see him again, wobbling and guilty as he comes for alcohol, he stares at her with a heavy brow. When he's approached by his people, overjoyed to see him, he quietly grins and speaks softly to them, then quickly hurries back to his home and closes himself inside._

\----------

She stares at Loki. His eyes still rove over New Asgard with an agonized glaze, shivering in rainy gusts of wind. She doesn't know if he's seeing what's really in front of him. The stillness, though, she knows that's not a good sign. 

She thinks of the shredded letter. She was told she could visit if she had questions, and so she plans to. But she can't leave Loki like this, freezing and out of his head.

"It never ends," Loki says as she gathers bandages. "Thor won't come - why would he?"

"He will," Valkyrie says. "Trust me."

He keeps speaking as if he hasn't heard. "Even when Odin dies, and Thor takes the throne, he'll leave you to rot just the same. And when Frigga passes you will have not even this. Just white walls and gruel for company."

He isn't talking to her, she realizes. She moves over to him and pulls him away from the door and shutting it against the chill. His eyes meet hers and then fade again. When she pulls he follows her, his stare blank - _truly_ blank - and it sends a chill down her spine. When she makes him sit he blinks, frowning as he looks over her house.

"Where am I?"

"New Asgard," she answers, crouching before him. 

"Ah," Loki says, swallowing hard. "That was not a dream, then."

"No," she says, pulling his sleeve up and cleaning his wounds. He grimaces and then some of the dazed look fades, his eyes coming to focus more sharply on her face. He looks her up and down, and she ignores him as she wraps up his forearm.

He seems to come to some sort of conclusion. "Or maybe this _is_ the dream, conjured by my failing mind."

"There's the ego," Valkyrie says as she finishes the bandages with a bit more roughness than necessary. "Your 'dream' can go fuck itself. I'm not accepting the role of a bit part in your grand self-centered universe."

"It wouldn't be the first time I've experienced this," Loki says, his shivers growing more pronounced. "On Sanctuary...maybe I'm still _there_, and everything else is fake."

She grabs his jaw, digging her nails in as she pulls him around. "Come back," she says. "We need to get you changed. Your clothes are sopping wet and freezing."

"What?" Another shiver, and he looks down at himself. Then something new courses over his face, panic, that ends in his eyes narrowing. "If you're not going to be of use, leave me in peace."

Oh, she's going to “be of use” all right. She drops her grip on his face and he hunches inward, eyes going glazed again. She doesn't want to do this with his arm still injured, but she's freaking out a bit about his mental state, and having a bit of fun with him has been the most successful with keeping him present so far.

That was why cutting himself hadn't worked, she realizes. It's not just the pain - it's everything, the arousal, the hurt, whatever vicious tangle of sensation and feelings they get into when she has her way with him. It draws him back.

She sighs, and clears the living room so the more breakable items are out of reach. She gathers rope, puts a knife in her belt, and after deliberation, puts some candles and other accessories within easy reach. She thinks to herself that she should have better supplies for this, but she knows how to work with what she has.

She puts a hand on his shoulder and digs her fingers into a muscle hard enough that he jolts his head up and grips into her wrist. 

She lets up, hoping he'll stay with her long enough to hear her. "How much do you want to pretend you don't want this?"

He looks around her house in confusion, and then down at the waiting rope in her hand. His cheeks color, but his face, predictably, closes off - intentionally, this time.

"I know you don't like it,” she says, “but in my experience, talking about it beforehand makes everything better." And she was clearly going to have to be the responsible one, here - a role she was luckily used to by now.

Loki watches her with his eyes narrowed. He shrugs his shoulder free of her hand. "I can simply feel the mercy dripping from you."

"Well, you're not looking for mercy," she says. "But I'm not looking for misunderstandings. Do you want a simple surrender, or do you want to fight?" She shrugs, her lips quirking. "I can work with either."

"You would so willingly put yourself at risk," Loki says, a confused edge to his tone.

"Not really," she says. "Even if you _were_ looking to win, I'm stronger, and the better fighter."

He stiffens in indignation. So maybe she was being a little mean with that one. But it's true, at least for the moment. Wherever he'd been the last two days, it clearly hadn't involved much in the way of sleeping or eating. And she's more than a little pissed at him for negating the progress they made with his health.

She feels the whisper of a tingle behind herself, and instinctively throws herself into a roll across the room. When she's upright, two Lokis are watching her, one holding a knife with a birch handle. He must have picked it up in a town somewhere. There's even a _logo_ on the side of it.

She can't help it, she raises her eyebrows. "Now who's begging for scraps from the humans?"

His teeth come out as he slashes, eyes bright with fury. She twists his arm down and hooks her leg behind his thigh, but he tenses tight as a rock to prevent her from unbalancing him. "Is this easier for you," he asks, hair hanging in his face, "to mask your sadism as altruism?"

Her knee comes up into his abdomen, and she throws him back as he recoils. "If it was a mask," she answers, "you would know. And you're the one who doesn't like things to be straightforward."

He stabs and she dodges, but he's even slower than the last few times they fought, his hands not quite steady on the blade. She reaches for his wrist and twists, intending to inspire him to drop the knife, when she sees his other arm lash out and moves herself a moment too late to prevent the blade from slashing over her ribs.

Warm blood begins to run down beneath her sweater. She stares at Loki in confusion, and the knife that she had been attempting to dislodge fades in a sparkle of green, now clenched in his opposite hand. 

"I think you'll find straightforwardness quite overrated," Loki taunts, clearly smug.

She grins back, her body singing, and pulls free her own knife. She's underestimated him. She hasn't underestimated anyone in _years_, not when it's come to combat. 

The rest of the fight lasts much longer than their bout on Sakaar. Her hair is beginning to fall loose from its bindings, and Loki breathes through an open mouth as he continually tries to fend her off, the palm of his unarmed hand slamming against her forearm as she stabs forward and then is forced to defend just as quickly against his second counter with his own knife. 

She feels her edge get meaner, because she knows that despite all of this, he's going to lose. He _wants_ to lose. Needs it.

But more than that, now, _she_ wants him to lose.

And Norns if she isn't going to rub this in. 

He manages another shallow slice into her arm, but the reach he needs leaves him open for a moment too long and she takes advantage by punching his smug face, _hard_, and then kicking his weapon from his grasp while he reels from the blow. She doesn't let up her advance even then, kneeing him in the stomach and throwing him across the floor when he doubles up.

He rolls and tries to rise into a crouch, but she's relentless, slamming her fist against the side of his face and sending him crashing to the ground again. She straddles his lower back and presses her knife into the back of his neck, letting him feel the blade's edge carve away the outermost layer of his skin. She sees him grimace and go carefully still, his hands twitching against the ground. 

"I'm going to need your clothes off for the next bit," she says, breathless. "Do you want to magic them away, or should I use the knife?"

He doesn't answer. His muscles tremble with cold and exhaustion, but his eyes are hard.

"You've already earned yourself quite a lot of punishment," she intones. "If you're hoping for more, you might be taking on more than you can bear."

"And what would you know about what I can and cannot bear?" The words were bitten-off, his fingers curling against the floor.

She shrugs. "Suit yourself." Her knife destroys its second article of clothing just as efficiently as the first time, and she has to reach to shred the remaining cloth at his arms, ripping it from his limbs and uncaring about her roughness, catching the wrist of his bandaged limb and pinning it sharply against the small of his back. 

His docility ends when she reaches for the rope, and she has to press down hard to keep him pinned. She knows the wounds are probably tearing open again beneath the bandages, but she's not above fighting dirty.

It would probably be much easier for both of them if she were to just knock him out, or use the manacles he came in, but she wants him aware for this. And she wants to send him a message that he won't soon forget.

She'd been kind to him, when she'd bound him before. But now, she uses the bite of the rope to subdue him as much as the binding itself, looping a tight snare around his upper arm before reaching for the opposite limb, bringing his elbows together as he squirms beneath her. She makes short work of his wrists, and then pulls more of the cord around his chest and arms, pinning the limbs to his torso. His long legs she binds ankle to thigh, testing just how well his body will bend. 

She leaves him prone while she gathers the items she'd set aside for his punishment. She puts them on the floor, clearly within his line of sight, and watches his hands curl tighter, his thumb brushing over the neighboring finger.

She crouches, letting him stare at the candles while she lights them one at a time. They're of traditional Asgardian make, and burn long, so she'll have to allow them time to sit and melt before she can use them.

She grips into his damp hair with her hand and bodily hefts him up so he's kneeling. He groans, and the cords must be uncomfortable where they press sharply into him, but he only stares at her with darkened and angry eyes. She doesn't let up on the pressure on his hair, and his nostrils flare and his lips press together as he fights to manage the pain. 

She presses their lips together. His skin is clammy from the storm, and he's stiff and unresponsive. She bites at his lower lip until she tastes copper, and with a wince he parts his mouth to let her in. Inside, he's warmer. She runs her tongue over his parted teeth, feeling his quickening breaths brush over her. 

She draws back, and digs the fingers of her free hand into his jaw. He darts his tongue out to catch the blood beading on his lower lip, eyeing her with caution. 

She smirks, lowering her hand from his face to scratch down his chest, hooking her fingers sharply into the underside of the rope wrapped around his chest. "I've tied you up like this because I'm pissed at you, and I'm going to be rough with you tonight. And probably tomorrow. And maybe even the next day."

He raises an eyebrow, but his eyes are a bit too wide for the calm he's trying to display. "Taking a long weekend from your kingly duties?"

Her lips quirk. "Who says I need to be paying attention to you to be rough?" She shoves him back, and he has to struggle not to overbalance, his jaw taut with humiliation. "Try to learn something this time."

She reaches for the hair tie she'd set aside, gathering his hair back into a low ponytail. She's careful, and can see his confusion at her gentleness. That fades into something a lot more wary when she grasps the first candle, then stands over him with it.

"Same as before - I want you to hold position. I'm going to start with your shoulders, and work my way down." 

She's used wax on partners before, though in a more careful sense than she's going to now. She knows from experience that the first splash is always the worst, painful and searing.

Loki doesn't disappoint. His breath catches as he futilely attempts to twist away, unable to move far as tightly bound as he is. He huffs out air as the pain fades, glaring up at her while she smiles faintly. Other than the initial attempt at surging away, he kept himself still.

She sends the next pour dripping down his chest, and he grinds his teeth as his flesh reddens around the burning liquid. She aims right for his nipple on the next dose, and the gasp and pull of his eyebrows makes her ache. 

If she was trying to prevent too much pain, she would be more careful to not let the wax pool, to give him time to recover, to stay a respectful distance to give it space to cool as it traveled down. But tonight's about punishment as much as it is giving him what he needs.

He'll heal.

She grasps his hair, tilting his head back to bare his neck, then lets the wax gather in the dips of his collarbone. 

His teeth grind audibly, his breath stuttering out of him. "I..." He cut off his words with a grunt.

The sight pulses in her core. "It's good, isn't it?"

His voice grows more strained as she gives him some matching color on the other side. "Not - the word I would use - _fuck_."

She laughs, delight flooding her as he squirms. "I don't think I've ever heard you curse like that before. Settle into it - it'll get more relaxing eventually." She pours more against his side, watching his ribs flutter against the rope pressed against them. "Like a soothing summer day."

"I'm not especially fond of summer," Loki bites out.

She rolls her eyes at his whining, and switches candles, allowing a liberal pour to course over both sides of his shoulder. 

His skin reacts even to the barest touch of wax. She pours until he's flushed a pretty ruby red all the way down his chest and stomach and sides.

Then she reaches for his cock, pulling it upwards. She watches as the realization washes over him. He seizes, breaths going jagged, shoulders pulling at his restraints. She pushes him back until he's flush with the floor, his limbs folded uncomfortably beneath him. She plants a knee against his chest to keep him down.

"So," she says, "this part is going to be a lot less relaxing."

The first splash of wax against his cock has him keening loud enough that she presses her hand down against his mouth to muffle him. She coats the wax over his length, pulling his balls out and giving them a liberal wash. His thighs quiver, his body bucking in quick jerks beneath her, his chest expanding with sobbing breaths. 

She takes pity on him, for the moment, giving the wax time to cool on his skin. As it goes tacky she grasps at his cock to give him a few pumps. The pain is what he needs to stay with her, but even the most masochistic of people (barring some particular species) need somewhat of a give and take when it comes to their pain and pleasure.

That doesn't mean she's not going to keep on with her plan to test just how far she can push him tonight.

She holds up the candle. "Ready for more?"

He looks torn. Strung up and muscles twitching, it's clear that the thought of another dose is still a bit too overwhelming. But she figures he wants overwhelming - that even without the issues in his mind, he would be bored with anything less. 

And, just like he can read her thoughts, he says, "Only if you're planning on being creative this time."

She ignores the jab and goes back to building him up, pouring wax over the thick muscles of his thighs, taking her time to fill in the empty spaces of skin before returning her attention to his genitals. His eyes clamp shut and he squirms, his neck arched up from the ground, steadily whimpering. 

She pulls his legs up and apart so he's resting with his feet flat on the floor, her hand finding his cock to move it aside. She can see his confusion for just a moment before she lets hot wax run over his perineum and then his jaw drops in shock.

He howls, thrashing violently against his bonds. Tears stream from his eyes. He tries to pull his legs from her grip and she keeps him pinned on his back, waiting for him to regain himself, her arousal aching, wondering what those movements would feel like with him inside of her.

When he stills, she rubs down his knees to the inside of his thigh, thumbing at the hardening wax to flake some of it off beneath her nail. He flinches, but she sees his cock eagerly stiffen. 

"Amazing what a simple touch can do when things are a bit overloaded," she says.

He makes what she thinks was originally meant to be a verbal reply but it doesn't get past the first consonant before dissolving into a whine. 

He's a mess - covered in wax, tears, and the bits of fluid that she's rubbed onto him from his cock. And since they started, his face hasn't shown so much as a hint that his mind has gone elsewhere.

She does away with the candles for now. His skin is so tenderized that whatever handling that follows will be enough to stoke his nerve endings to light. She thinks that he's awfully tender for an Asgardian - those levels of heat usually don't do quite as much damage to the skin as she's seeing. 

"Remember, hold your position," she says, and begins to pull at his cock.

His breathing hitches, the muscles in his thighs and pelvis already twitching, like he's torn between thrusting up and pulling away. The flush of his skin deepens as she begins to bring him to the brink.

"I," he gasps, giving an aborted writhing motion, "I, I can't - please - I can't-"

She scrapes some of the wax from his cock, just to be mean - the noise he makes goes straight to her core. He's trying so hard to keep himself together.

Norns, is this what it would have been like if she'd had time to have him on Sakaar? She'd _really_ missed out on that one. 

"I'm feeling charitable right now," she says. "Just know that I'm not done punishing you by a long shot."

He doesn't look quite like he's processing words, but after a few seconds a jagged nod comes in response. 

"You can come," she says, and watches carefully as he throws his head back, sweat glistening against his skin, and his release floods in pulses over her palm.

He goes limp, legs splayed awkwardly and still bound. She gathers his spend in her hand and moves down, beyond where she'd cruelly placed the wax, and uses it as lubricant to push her fingers in. 

He's still too worn out to tense up properly, but she sees him make the effort, his head coming back up.

She gives him a small smile. "Have you ever been pegged?" 

His eyes round. He swallows.

She smiles wider.


	3. Chapter 3

Something changes after that.

He recovers so quickly from the state he had been in that she decides to postpone her visit to the witch.

They don't spend the entirety of the next three days fucking, but it's a near thing, and when they’re not fucking, it’s because he’s either taking rest or she’s putting him through gentler torments. One evening she simply binds his arms behind his back and to his torso with a cocoon of rope, then uses him to wind down from the day by lazily straddling and kissing him for nearly an hour, her hand pressed into the line of his jaw.

She hadn't realized quite how pent up she was. 

She no longer binds him at night while she sleeps. Instead, she lets him into her bed, folding herself around him so she can easily rake her nails over the marks she's left when she wakes in the mornings.

He spends a day and a half after that resting. When he finally rises, his eyes have more clarity and he moves more easily through her house. 

She carefully watches him for any signs of the visions, but he continues to act normally. He _eats_. He lets her work.

At one point she realizes he's not in her house and has a moment of panic before she hears his voice outside. He's speaking with a number of gathered Asgardians, the plans for their new defense shields in his hands. Solvi is standing at his shoulder, reaching in for a nibble on his clothes that he deftly side-steps to avoid.

Valkyrie doesn't bother to hide her suspicion when she approaches. "What are you doing?" 

He jerks his gaze towards her, momentarily looking guilty before he seems to steel himself. "Your methods are outdated," he says. "Asgard hasn't used shields like these in a millenium. I have made some suggestions, and listed possible sources of simple, renewable magic."

She stares at him. He's wearing green and black leathers again, but casual and form-fitting, with no armor to signal his expectations of battle. His face is free of the lines of stress that had been hounding him.

His raises his eyebrows at her, as if she's the one doing something out of the ordinary.

He almost looks like the Loki she'd known.

She thinks of the witch's letter. She tries to feel relieved that she's made the right choice. "Run your plans by me first next time," she says.

"I left a copy on your desk," he says dismissively. "Along with critiques of the infrastructure in progress." He looks chagrined for half a moment, then adds, "Your Majesty."

She stares at him. "You're serious. About helping."

"What reason would I have to not? I'd much prefer if the place I was staying wasn't bordered by meager defenses. Especially if you ever find yourselves having to defend me from the Avengers."

She's at somewhat of a loss. She gathers herself, shaking her head. "That won't be a problem." She doesn't mention that every Asgardian has already been named an honorary Avenger after the Battle of Earth.

She leaves him to it. He works later than she does, and when she finally forces him to release her people from the hard labor that they need to undergo to rebuild their shields, he helps himself to her desk to work on more paperwork until the small hours of the morning.

\-----------

The shields on New Asgard are up in a matter of weeks. Before, Valkyrie would have considered them lucky if they'd had them done within half a year. Loki's knowledge is made clear as they test their effectiveness, finding them sturdy against even the strongest Asgardian and Sakaarian weapons they have on hand. 

The following day, they celebrate. Loki has single-handedly saved them months of work. The Meeting Hall is turned into a Feasting Hall, with roasted fish and birds, fresh breads and cakes. It's nothing like the extravagance they had once had on Asgard, but she knows they're one step closer to securing that kind of stability.

Loki joins them, and if he feels awkward, he's good at hiding it - or else the people are used to his awkwardness. 

He even smiles when Valkyrie raises a toast to his work. When her people cheer, they do not understate their gratitude towards him. Asgard has taken many blows in the last decade. Any strength regained is a great relief to its people.

The feast continues. Wine is poured for Loki - the people's approximation of what his favorite had been on Asgard. His eyebrows come up in surprise, and after taking his first drink, gives a responding and genuine nod. As his glass empties the edges to his tension filter out, and he begins to speak to the elder closest to him, albeit concerning the current state of their medical care technologies. Without the ability to draw on Asgard's magic, it's been almost impossible for them to perform any replication of Asgard's Soul Forges and healing beds - and that's not considering the fact that the Sakaarians among them all require consideration for their own individual species.

She has the strong urge to gently cuff Loki upside the head and tell him they're _celebrating_ and to give the planning a rest for a few hours, but she likes where his head is. 

She cranes her neck to search for Korg, intending on asking him what he thinks of it, or if he even knows anything about how his own physiology works. She finds him in the far corner of the Hall, surrounded by a group of the youngest Asgardians. He's reading to them from an increasingly fragile-looking laptop in his large hands. She can't quite hear him over the bustle of conversations around her, but she's sure she's seen the words "King" and "Loki" cross his lips multiple times.

She turns back to Loki - or rather, the spot where Loki had been sitting. His chair is pushed back and empty, and the elder he was speaking to is now carrying on a conversation with someone else.

She tries not to worry. Perhaps he just excused himself to use the restroom. She doesn't hear Solvi screaming for her, so he's not trying to run. She can stay and enjoy the rest of the night of drink and food.

Her reserve lasts all of half a second.

Out of the Hall, the air is crisp, the sky muddied with clouds strong enough to hide the distant glow of the moon. She only finds Loki as quickly as she does because Solvi is with him, the white frame of Valkyrie's mount standing out against the dark even from a distance. 

He's at the very edge of town. She unhurriedly makes the journey up the hill towards him, wondering if he's out checking over the shields. Solvi stands facing his side, her large head lowered to nuzzle into him. The sounds of their people celebrating echo out over them, even at this distance.

He's not checking the shields, she realizes when she gets close. He's just standing there.

"What are you doing?" Her voice comes out sharper than she intends, thinking he's suffering another relapse. "Where are you?"

He does not turn to face her. "He's dead, isn't he. Or, I suppose I should say, _I_ am dead."

Valkyrie feels her heart beat faster.

He turns his head slowly, his eyes glittering. "The Midgardians have no records of him after New York. Everyone here is far too kind. But their numbers are too few, and you told me Asgard was destroyed. So, either he managed an escape from the dungeons - unlikely - or he fell with it."

She shakes her head. "You're off the mark. You didn't...it had nothing to do with that."

He faces her more fully. "You don't think I deserve an answer?"

She wants to tell him it doesn't matter - that their Loki's fate has no bearing on what this one is now. But he's not going to take that well, and she doesn't want to see him start putting the pressure for the truth on any of the other Asgardians.

"You fell to Thanos," she reveals. "To save Thor's life. To save what remained of our people."

He stares at her long and hard, before his expression cracks with black amusement. "I always knew...I was promised great pain for failure. My life was nothing but a means for the Mad Titan to achieve his goal."

"You died a hero." 

"_He_ died because his life's end had been marked from the moment he fell to Thanos's disciples. It was probably thrilling, to cast such an image for himself for his last moments."

"That's not how it happened."

His eyes are hard. "How did it happen, then?" 

She falters. "I wasn't there," she admits. "None of our people were. Only you, and Thor, surrounded by Thanos and the Black Order."

"How do you know you are not wrong? Perhaps his actions were misconstrued." He's running his thumb across his fingers, the wildness in his eyes coming back. "Thor gave up on him. Why would he bother - why would he be so _weak_-"

"Finish that sentence and see what happens," she snarls. "You should be grateful to him - if he hadn't done what he did, you wouldn't be here. Thanos is dead. His followers are dead. His armies fell. All that's left for you is to decide what you want to do now." He's still staring, his eyes cold with anger and unblinking, but she doesn't make the effort to soften her voice. "Thor didn't give up on you, in the end, even after the shit you put him through."

"No?" He looks over the land and demonstratively spreads his arms wide. "Then why isn't he here?"

"Because he gave up on _himself._ That's why I've been appointed King. Your brother judged himself too unfit for rule, and left the kingdom to me. And if you want to know more than that, you're going to have to speak with him yourself."

She can see the instinctive protest forming, before he presses his lips into a thin line. He looks back out over the sea. "They look at me with such adoring eyes and meanwhile I would wish nothing more than to see Asgard _burn_."

The words aren't at all a surprise to Valkyrie. "And yet you've given us new shields instead."

His shoulders droop. Solvi nudges him with a soft nicker, and he jerks himself irritably out of her reach.

He turns on Valkyrie in sudden accusation. "Am I merely his replacement to you? This other Loki, did you and he..."

She rolls her eyes. "_Tell me_ you're not going to go and get jealous of yourself. We never fucked, if that's what you're asking. He did try to kill me once." She raises her eyebrows pointedly. "I beat him. Just like I beat you."

Loki stares at her, his gaze wild and teeth bared. "I am _not._ Him."

"Maybe not," Valkyrie says. "But if I'm being honest with you, thinking about any of this makes my head ache. As far as I can tell, you are what you are."

"And what is that?"

"Loki." She frowns. "What the hell else would you be?"

He looks at a loss at that. She reaches out and closes her hand around his wrist. "If you're not going to join the others in the Meeting Hall, we can find something else to occupy you."

He stares at her. He looks torn, even as she sees his breaths quicken. 

No one's expecting him to live up to the legacy of his alternate self, but she supposes he wouldn't quite see it that way. He doesn't know that at the moment she's just extremely thankful he's pulled himself out of his tantrums enough to stop impeding New Asgard's progress.

She tightens her grip on his wrist. If he's uncertain, she's willing to convince him.

\-----------

There's no special toys that night. No pain, other than scratches and bites and pounding of skin on skin. For the first time, she lets him fuck her instead of the other way around. His lean body presses against her, his lips on hers as he circles her clit with his thumb. She presses her hands into the curve of his ass, pulling him in harder against her, digging her nails in as he thrusts.

He takes her cue pushes himself up onto his arm, finally putting his back into it. She braces her shoulders into the mattress and lifts her lower back, spreading herself wider. He takes proper advantage of the angle and takes a deep, powerful thrust, the heel of his hand grinding down against her nub. She arches with a satisfied grunt, and he smirks as he thrusts again.

She pants, her hands digging into his sides, encouraging the pace. "Norns, if you'd just put this much effort into your sparring, you'd probably not get your ass so thoroughly beat every time."

His cheeks color with humiliation, or maybe just more arousal. "You...say that as if...you don't enjoy...putting me in my place."

She smirks. "That doesn't mean it's not true."

He works hard to keep that level of intensity, his words fading as he stares at her like he's drowning and she's his only bit of air. 

"Oh, yes," she breathes. "Your hand - again."

He obliges, and sparks of pleasure rush up her core, her thighs clamped around him as she gasps through her orgasm.

"Don't stop," she orders.

He complies, but his brows are beginning to draw together, his breathing rushing out of him a bit too fast. His hips stutter, his pace thrown off, and he grinds his teeth and starts up again, a low noise of panic in his throat. He lowers himself, pressing his forehead on the mattress beside her. His limbs are trembling, his lip caught in his teeth as he struggles to keep moving.

She's overcome by a sudden worry, wondering if the visions were coming back again. "Are you all right?"

His voice answers, breathless and muffled by the sheets. "Does Your Majesty plan on allowing me to finish tonight?"

And oh, she _likes_ it when he says it like that, his words low enough to rumble pleasure from her ears straight down to her swollen clit and leave her gasping again. It's the first time the title has done anything for her besides evoke a distant discomfort. 

She brings her hand up to the back of his neck, threading her fingers into his hair. Her thighs clench at his sides. 

"This is your reward," she responds. "But you'll need to clean up after yourself."

He lifts his head and his eyes seem to come to light. He still makes sure she comes first, his hands and cock working in tandem again to raise the pressure within her, until it floods her system and it's _so_ fucking good, the way he arches over her and cries out when she clamps everything down around his pulsing cock.

He does clean her thoroughly when he's done, his tongue pressing in deep while her thighs press at the sides of his head, her hand in his hair holding him in place. She keeps him down there, letting him ease her into a third orgasm.

After, he lays stretched out beside her. And if he's not content, he at least doesn't look as unhappy as he did earlier.

She watches the lines of his face, her nethers still sensitized. She could go again, and again. And so could he.

But she's the King, and he's her subject, at least for now. There's something she needs to make sure he understands. "I meant what I said. About you only needing to stay until you see Thor."

His face tightens - and there's the unhappiness again. "Of course."

"You can go anywhere you want after that."

Now he's openly glaring at the ceiling. "You mean once you've tired of me."

"That isn't what I meant," she protests.

"Isn't it?"

She rolls her eyes. "What is it like in your head," she wonders out loud, her hand playing with one of the ringlets that falls over his pale shoulder. "I'm the one who's been coming on to _you_, you idiot." She realizes what he's said a moment later. "You've dropped the bespelled bit."

He sighs. "I realize now that the visions aren't truly real. They are just a consequence of my unfortunate dealings with the Tesseract."

Valkyrie considers. "There's a witch the next town over. If you're still having problems, we can ask her for help."

"A witch," he says with a frown. "A mortal?"

Valkyrie shrugs. "I don't really know her. But she helped found the land that we built on." For the sake of her sanity, she's not going to mention the letter about letting him go that had lead to this new ease in dealing with him.

He shakes his head. "After Thor...I'll find a way to deal with it myself."

\-----------

Over the next weeks, she finds herself in possession of a new counselor. Loki demands to attend her meetings with the people, and his shrewd mind offers up critiques and new ideas. After his help with the shields, everyone is all too willing to accept his suggestions in augments to their materials.

She sees what Thor meant, about Loki being destined to end up the mind behind the throne. The leadership comes naturally to him. The topics that make her want to pull her own hair out instead seem to give him life. He takes conflicts and difficult decisions back to her house to parse over, often brainstorming entire essays on the positives and negatives of each. For each step he looks ten paces into the future to see where their decisions will lead.

He's calmer, for the most part. But he still works himself far too hard, like there's some sort of urgency, an end that they have to be ready for that none of them can see coming. 

And she can tell, for the most part, when his eyes grow too feverish, when the visions begin to haunt him again. That's when she has to stop everything and tend to him. It takes less effort than it did when he first arrived, now that she can sense when it starts and head off the increasing intensity.

Sometimes he prods her if she doesn't notice fast enough, with small mischiefs around the house. The long day of checking lobster traps in the chilled air only to come home to a bathroom full of snakes is particularly grating. His wails echo through her bedroom loud enough that they're interrupted by Solvi pawing insistently at her front door with her hooves, and Loki's still laughing about that by the time she gags him.

With careful effort on both of their parts, he stays present. He spends most of his time moving freely and without that haunted shadow clouding his face. 

She should have known better. Because there exists a ticking clock in his head that she can’t see, an invisible line from him to the remnants of the life he was supposed to be experiencing. 

And the night he loses his mother is the first night she nearly loses him.

\----------

Rain pelts Valkyrie's eyes in sharp and stinging strikes, her unbound hair whipping in the wind. The clouds are dark and dense overhead. Thunder roars like an omen.

She wears no armor, and grips into Solvi with bared thighs. There hadn't been enough time to don it once she had realized what had happened.

Lightning illuminates her surroundings in a brief flash that outlines the shape of black beating wings far ahead. Loki’s chosen a form that could match up to Solvi’s speed - a flying horse, with a coat dark enough to blend into the night. Valkyrie thinks in panic that if he decides to send himself into the cover of the clouds above, he’ll either escape her for good or die in the storm.

She screams his name into the expanse of sky, but she knows he will not hear her.

Solvi shoots forward, gasping in huge breaths as her powerful wings push against air, struggling to gain ground on Loki's shapeshifted form. Valkyrie dodges the lightning but Loki flies without sense, legs thrashing in a desperate escape from an enemy that neither of them have been able to defeat.

Or maybe he does have sense. But that would be much worse.

They begin to catch up. Solvi is battle-ready and strong, and her force and stamina outweighs the sleek agility of Loki's movements and the sprint from which he is quickly tiring.

But they are still too far from him when the lightning takes his wing.

He falls, a dead weight.

Valkyrie grasps Solvi's hair in fistfuls as they follow him in a wild dive, laying herself as flat as possible so the streamline will catch them up. Her heart pounds in her throat; determination and despair fill her in equal measures. At this speed she can barely see for the water that sharply assails her eyes. The air is so cold that her skin has gone entirely numb.

The ground is fast approaching. They inch closer and closer to Loki until Valkyrie throws herself towards him, lashing his legs frantically with the rope she holds in her hands. Then she prays to the Allfathers, the Norns - whoever is listening, and shouts the command for Solvi to pull up.

The jerk nearly sends her from Loki, her hand clamping hard into his forearm the only thing to keep her from losing her purchase completely. Solvi screams but does not let up her fight against the weight that pulls her down, breast muscles pumping against the pressure of the air beneath her in desperation to regain as much lift as possible.

His back slams into earth, his wings outstretched against the ground. Solvi collapses beside them, bleeding red on the white of her coat where the worst of the rope's pressure cut into her skin. Valkyrie quickly releases her and Solvi struggles to rise, her nostrils flaring with loud and sharp breaths.

Then she turns to Loki - she can't see any damage except for where the strike hit his wing, but what she fears most is the internal damage caused by a fall from that height on a creature that large. 

He comes awake before she can reach him. Teeth gnash at her as his neck stretches wildly, and then he begins to fight to right himself against the tangle of rope still wrapped about his legs. 

A hoof catches her in the side and sends her flying into grass and mud, and when she recovers she sees Solvi standing over Loki as he uses his wings to pull himself up, unheeding of what must be terrible pain as he shrieks, jaws open and teeth exposed. 

Solvi rears and bares her own teeth, dodging his bites as Valkyrie rushes over and leaps onto his back, her arms clamping about his neck. He tries to buck, wings beating, but with his legs hobbled his movements are limited. 

Solvi pins her ears and extends her head, snapping at him as Valkyrie pulls another length of rope about his neck before pulling it tight.

It takes him all night to stop fighting. Through that time the storm doesn't end, thunder roaring all around them. The cloud cover is so thick that when the sun finally rises there is hardly a difference in the gloom or the cold.

When he collapses, she just barely has time to throw herself off before her leg is crushed. He lays on his side in the mud, eyes wide and rolling, breaths heavy and wings twitching.

Valkyrie crawls to him, soaked to the bone, covered in bruises and chafed flesh. She buries her face into the sleek blackness of his coat. 

Her eyes burn, but the rain washes away any tears that manage to escape.

\--------------

Loki does not revert back to his Asgardian form in the morning. Valkyrie tries to speak with him to convince him to come back with her, but he only stares vacantly with his neck flattened and ears back. He doesn't react to Solvi's nuzzling.

Between the two of them, they manage to coax him to his feet. She keeps his neck rope bound to Solvi. The journey back to New Asgard takes hours at the pace they go on foot.

Her people rush to help her when she arrives, bringing her warm clothes and readying the stables at her request. There's fresh water and hay waiting for both Solvi and Loki.

She binds Loki's tether to a ring on the side of a stall, and posts Einherjar outside of it for good measure. He stands with his face directed at the wall, unresponsive except for a low groan when she examines his damaged wing. She wonders if his refusal to change back has anything to do with the injury.

She doesn't want to leave him, especially now. But she knows she has to.

This can't go on. 

She reluctantly leaves him to be guarded by the Einherjar. She returns to her home, and gathers her armor and weapons. She tames her hair, binding it in braids and clasping it into metal rings to keep it set. 

Solvi is waiting for her outside of the stables when she approaches, but her attention is on the entrance. She swivels her head and nickers softly when Valkyrie approaches.

"We're going to help him," she assures, rubbing her hand over Solvi's forehead. "We'll find a way. But I need you to take me somewhere."

\--------------

Valkyrie lands outside a solitary, humble cottage bordered by a field of grass. It's a few miles walk to the nearest town, and even in the waning sun no light comes from inside the house. She fears the woman she seeks might not be home at all.

She dismounts Solvi and sends her to graze, then approaches the door to knock.

It swings open at her first touch. The house beyond is shadowed.

A voice calls to her. "Come in."

As she steps inside the door shuts automatically behind her, plunging the house into further dark. There's a light flickering in the far corner of the main room - a single candle, aflame on a table next to a shallow basin filled with clear liquid. On a chair beside it, sits a woman with long black hair, with runes inscribed in the sleeves of her top. 

The woman is watching her with knowing eyes. "Valkyrie of No Name, King of Asgard, Scrapper Slaver of Sakaar. Ask what questions you have."

Valkyrie goes still, suddenly wary. "You don't already know why I've come?"

The woman shrugs. "Many have intents which do not match their requests. Words are often required to make power binding. Asgard's previous King spent nearly an hour before he stumbled upon what he truly wanted to know."

She gazes about the cottage's interior. It looks far too normal for the strangeness she feels pervading the air. "What's happening to Loki? And how do I stop it?"

"The prince of two realms, fallen and displaced, now enslaved."

Valkyrie’s wariness morphs into anger. "He's not a slave."

The witch makes a low humming noise, smiling. "Thousands of years and thousands of lives. It lives in your blood. It shaped who you are today."

The water in the basin is rippling. In the poor light Valkyrie thinks she catches the outlines of two staring faces. When she looks back up, dark eyes are watching her unblinkingly.

A _witch_, they had thought. 

But she had battled alongside witches, of both Asgard and Earth. None had felt like this, or had known her as easily as breathing. This went far beyond someone in simple possession of the sight.

She keeps herself from resting her hand on the hilt of the knife slung at her waist. "Who are you?"

"A wielder of fate."

She rolls her eyes, in no mood for games. She gets enough of that from Loki. "Just...answer the question."

The witch doesn't get enraged - simply continues to stare with cold eyes. "I once lived in the branches of the World Tree. Then came the unfolding of Ragnarok, and the burning of my task. My sisters yet remain within Yggdrasil."

Valkyrie sees another flash, the pair of faces within the bowl of water growing stronger. "You're a Norn."

The "witch" raises her eyebrows in amusement.

Valkyrie swallows. "You're a Norn. Living on Earth. In a cottage."

"And you are a valkyrie doing much the same,” the Norn points out. “It helps to not be so obvious. Most mortals would tear themselves apart if they knew the truth of me. But this is not what you came to discuss."

"Something's happening to Loki," Valkyrie says. "He's seeing things that aren't there."

The Norn’s hands spread over her table, before coming to hover over the basin of water. "The Tesseract was returned to its home. It was replaced so that events would not differ from the original timeline. Yet the echo remains."

"The echo," she repeats, and feels a chill. "You mean Loki."

"He does not belong. He is a shade, and the universe seeks to make him whole."

"How can I help?"

Long fingers tap at the side of the basin, sending ripples through the faces within. "Allow it to run its course."

She nods - she’s already determined to withstand whatever consequences are needed to get him well. "And what happens then?"

A shrug answers her. "He will die and fade, and all universes will be right again."

"No," she says, stepping forward before she can stop herself. "There has to be something else."

"You may send him back from where he originated, at the exact time. He will fade without suffering."

"But he's _alive,_” Valkyrie insists. “He's a person, not an echo or a shade. He has thoughts and feelings."

The Norn shakes her head - she’s not allowing herself to be swayed. "He is misplaced. He should not be."

“You said intents make your power binding.” Valkyrie feels her hand tighten on her blade. "I'm not just going to erase him. There has to be a way that he can go on living here."

The Norn’s voice sharpens and seems to fill the room. "I am bound by the laws of time and space as much as any creature, even if I may see through them. The only way to do what you seek would be to prevent the original's life from expiring. But this would alter reality. And other lives there would be lost."

"Isn't there something," Valkyrie asks, the spark of hope within her withering. "Maybe some sort of magical artifact that could anchor him to life."

"An object alone would not save him." 

She's growing tenser, the urge for violence rising. "Then why send the note with Korg in the first place? You said you were helping."

"No. I gave you the instructions so that _you_ could help him.” A toothy grin forms, bright white in the darkness, and fully unkind. “And you did that very well. But my aim was to know the instigator of Ragnarok suffered his due for the destruction of my home."

She suddenly wonders if she’s foolish enough to see what happens if she throws herself forward with her knife. She knows her anger is clear on her face. "He's not even the same Loki that summoned Surtur."

"Not yet." 

An invisible force presses against Valkyrie before she can choose to attack, urging her towards the door. 

She struggles to stay in place, to not simply be dismissed. “What are you doing?”

She thinks she can see the eyes within the basin flashing. "This is wearying. Return to your slave, King of New Asgard, and relish the time left that you are given."

"He's not my slave!" Her shout echoes in the dark of the cottage, the final word pounding in her ears.

The force against her strengthens, dragging her feet back across the floor. When the Norn speaks again, it is in a trio of voices. All of them are amused. "He is now incapable of being anything else."

The door slams in her face.


	4. Chapter 4

The ride back to New Asgard feels long. She’s overcome with bubbling anxiety, the desire for something strong to scald her throat and soften her mind.

But she won’t do it. She still has a duty.

At the stables, the Einherjar inform her that Loki transitioned at some point, but they did not release him for fear that he would escape again while she was gone. Valkyrie thanks her stars for their good sense.

Loki is curled on the floor of the stall with a blanket draped over him and wheat straw in his snarled hair. The enchanted rope has changed to accommodate his new form, snug around his pale neck. Food and drink sits against the wall on a tray, completely untouched.

She enters. He blinks his eyes open when he hears her. Relief fills them at the sight of her, but they appear oddly clouded. He climbs to his knees, unsteady, and the blanket slips from his shoulders to pool on the ground behind him. He hasn't bothered to call forth any clothing to cover himself, so she can clearly see the sunburst of a scar mottling his left shoulder, spreading over his back. 

There's no redness at his fingertips. He hasn't even made an attempt to free himself.

"I am ready to receive whatever punishment you seek to dispense," he says to the ground.

Some of the dullness leaves him when she approaches - a tightening appears around his eyes, his breaths quickening ever so slightly. He darts a glance upwards as if to check what emotion rests on her face.

He doesn't know the fate that awaits him. And she doesn't know if she can tell him. "Where are you right now?"

He raises an eyebrow and glances around himself. "I thought that would have been painfully obvious." The rasp to his voice detracts slightly from the flippancy he tries to inject into it.

"Don't be an ass," she says. "I mean...the other place."

He jerks, terror washing over his gaze. "No," he hisses. "No, I am not there, you cannot _make me be there_."

"Just one thing," she urges. "Are you still in the dungeons of Asgard? What made you run this time?"

The panic in his eyes is increasing. He raises his hands to the rope around his neck and begins to try and pluck at the knots to loosen them. 

She reaches for him and he fights her, teeth bared, and she has to put her back into it to pin him.

He hisses his breath through clenched teeth, hair frizzed wildly over his face. "Let me go," he demands. 

She tries to keep the distressed edge from her voice. "I will show you how much you are here, but first I need to know."

He stares at her, eyes wide and wet, the tendons in his neck clearly visible. "It is not real," he insists plaintively, voice breaking over the last word. "What help will it be to you if it is _not real_?"

_ _She goes for the low blow. "Do you want to spend the night alone in the stables?"_ _

_ _He freezes, intense aversion filling his expression at the threat. He swallows, and when he closes his eyes a single tear falls from each. "Asgard's Queen has fallen."_ _

_ _She releases him. He curves forward over his knees._ _

_ _His mother. _ _

_ _More tears are sliding free over his face, and she sees him inhale harshly, trembling. _ _

_ _She hardens her heart. She'll do what he needs her to do, and then she's going to get him to help her figure out where they need to go from here._ _

_ _"Get up," she demands. "Put some clothes on. I have to show you something."_ _

_ _\----------_ _

_ _In the expanse of the grassy field to the south of New Asgard, Loki fades in and out. Solvi follows close behind them as they move farther and farther from the town._ _

_ _Eventually, Loki grows impatient, slowing until she nearly has to drag him to keep him moving._ _

_ _"This isn't right," he says, his steps stilted with their reluctance. "This doesn't help."_ _

_ _"We're nearly there," she urges. "Just keep moving."_ _

_ _He speaks under his breath the nearer they come to their destination. "They did not even allow you to be present at the funeral. You were told as an afterthought. It's only what you deserve - you denied her, sent her away."_ _

_ _Valkyrie brings him to a halt. Then she raises her hand._ _

_ _The Commodore shimmers from its state of invisibility. _ _

_ _Loki frowns as he stares at it, his gaze moving to her in confusion. _ _

_ _"It's real," she confirms. _ _

_ _"It's not Asgardian."_ _

_ _"No," she says, feeling like a steel weight has been dropped in her stomach. "It's something a lot worse."_ _

_ _He looks pensive at that. _ _

_ _She draws him into the ship, speaking a soft word to Solvi to keep her from trying to join them._ _

_ _The lights come on as they enter. The ship still has power, and far too much of it. The Grandmaster hadn't spared in the technology of his vessels, especially the ones designed for fucking._ _

_ _Loki looks all around himself as he follows her into the main cabin. There are lounge benches set at each end of the room, where people might sit with a drink to observe whatever entertainment was taking place. _ _

_ _She pulls free a control panel from the wall, inputting specifications when the applications are revealed to her. _ _

_ _The floor in the center of the room opens up, and a chair of garish red rises, reclining, with rests for the arms and legs, and stirrups at their ends._ _

_ _"If you want me to help you, you can undress and sit there," she says._ _

_ _Loki swallows hard. She wonders what he thinks she's going to do to him._ _

_ _At any rate, he doesn't ask. Which means she'll have to explain things all the more thoroughly._ _

_ _She's not looking forward to it._ _

_ _Loki’s clothes disappear in a shimmer of magic. He carefully turns, eyeing the chair like it's a living thing. He should be nervous. If he agrees, she's going to make sure he can't even _think_ well enough for the visions to be a problem ever again._ _

_ _If he's going to die, she owes him that much._ _

_ _He slides into the seat, and she maneuvers his legs snug into the stirrups, and his hands into their places over the chair arms. _ _

_ _He shifts anxiously, but keeps his limbs in place. "Are you planning on finally being creative?"_ _

_ _"Something like that," she answers. "Keep still. I'll need to do a scan to start."_ _

_ _She picks up the panel again, activating the chair to scan Loki's body measurements and life signs. The chair notes the injury at his shoulder and withdraws a portion of itself, creating a hole so the burn is free of being pressed into its surface._ _

_ _When he looks at her, she explains. "The chair can sense your injuries. It will make sure they cause minimal interference."_ _

_ _"Which would be more comforting if removing pain was our aim," Loki says._ _

_ _"Trust me, there won't be a lack," she responds. "I'm going to restrain you now. You'll need to be strapped in tightly, so you're kept still for the program."_ _

_ _"Program," Loki repeats, dubious, leaning forward so he can better peer at the panel in her hand. _ _

_ _"Sit back," she says. "It won't activate unless you give it the go-ahead." She looks around at the ceiling of the ship. "This place likes you to tell it you want to be here at the start."_ _

_ _Loki swallows, the concern in his eyes growing. But he presses himself back._ _

_ _She activates the restraints. Gold-painted metal curves over him, locking him down in multiple places along his arms and legs, his chest and waist. The bonds tighten snugly against his measurements._ _

_ _He immediately squirms, testing his now severely limited range of movement. His mouth parts slightly as his breaths become shallower. The stirrups at the end of the chair are rising, elevating his ankles and spreading his thighs apart as his upper body is reclined back at a slight angle._ _

_ _When it's done, his hands curl into fists, and he lets his head fall back against the headrest. He watches her with narrowed eyes as she circles in front of him. His genitals are on full display. Vulnerable._ _

_ _"Thorough," he comments, trying and failing to relax. "What is it? A torture chamber?"_ _

_ _She'd seen devices like this in use before. Sometimes their occupants had seemed like they were in the process of being tortured, but sometimes their handling was soft and kind. Research and development hadn't spared in coming up with accessories for the Grandmaster's favored orgy ship._ _

_ _"It can be,” she says. “It just depends on the settings. Mostly it's just for people to have a good time."_ _

_ _To demonstrate, she selects one of the default programs for the environmental settings. The lights in the room dim and turn twinkling, sending a sultry warm glow flowing over Loki's bared skin. A light scent like warm sugar fills the air. Loud symphonic music begins to play._ _

_ _Loki looks dubious. _ _

_ _"Okay, that's a bit much," Valkyrie admits, and can't even hear herself speak over the dramatic song playing. The Grandmaster had been a huge fan of staging his sexual activities as much as the fights - she should have guessed there wouldn't be any halfway measures here either. _ _

_ _She mutes the music so she can hear herself think._ _

_ _"There's a monitor in the chair," she says. "It's going to keep track of your heart, breathing and perspiration."_ _

_ _Loki stops his examination of the changes in the room and turns his attention back to her. "Why?"_ _

_ _"So it knows how it's affecting you. What hurts, what's pleasing. And...so it doesn't accidentally kill you."_ _

_ _He looks more wary now, but he doesn't ask to be released. "Kill me with what?"_ _

_ _"These," she answers, and chooses a program from the available listed on the remote._ _

_ _Circular slots around the base of the chair and ceiling open up. Slender shapes of writhing silver stretch out from them, undulating. They're about the circumference of her wrist and taper at the ends._ _

_ _Loki's eyes widen in shock as the mechanical tentacles begin to make their way towards him. His fists clench harder, muscles going rigid against their restraints. _ _

_ _When the first of the metal tendrils reaches down for his thigh, he gasps and quivers as he instinctively strains. She sees the program take in the information, the raised heart-rate, and a second tentacle dips down, layering itself with small pin-like needles that it gently runs over Loki's chest, scraping lines of red on his skin. A third comes down to coil a thin end firmly about the base of his cock, humming as it vibrates._ _

_ _Loki gasps again, his hands unclenching as he throws his head back. "Wait - I - _ah_-"_ _

_ _She presses pause._ _

_ _The tentacles withdraw, hovering around him. _ _

_ _Loki sucks in air through his nostrils, setting his jaw as he stares at her. "You're certain this won't kill me," he demands._ _

_ _"You'll be safe," she says. "The system is intuitive. It's only going to feel like you're dying."_ _

_ _Loki's chest heaves and he shuts his eyes, swallowing hard. "All right," he says, voice unsteady. "Start it again."_ _

_ _She unpauses. The program doesn't wait, half a dozen of the tendrils beginning to fall on him, lights dancing up their sides as electrical energy sparks at their tips. One runs itself over his nipple, another across his throat, gently pressing him still. A third circles the entrance between his spread legs, beading with lubricant at its tip before it begins to press itself in. The lights indicating electroshock begin to build down its sides._ _

_ _Loki's composure fails and he pulls at his restraints. "What-"_ _

_ _The shock is dispensed and Loki howls, neck arched against the pinioning length over his throat as his pelvis quivers. He takes in sobbing breaths as the metal tendrils continue their work, the one inside him now gently working its way in and out._ _

_ _She puts the panel aside and steps around to his head, commanding away the tendril at his throat and replacing it with her hand, her fingers caressing his jaw. "You taunt me in hopes I'll do terrible things to you, but young prince, you have _no_ idea of anything about me, or where I come from. And you should be careful what you wish for." She stares down the length of his body, down to his cock, hard and dusky, leaking fluid onto the coils that surround it. "You're going to stay in this chair for the next several hours," she says._ _

_ _She feels him whimper against her hand._ _

_ _"You'll be safe," she assures, rubbing her hand over his forehead. "Trust me. I won't let anything happen to you."_ _

_ _She really hopes that’s a promise that she’s going to be able to keep._ _

_ _\-----------_ _

_ _He's beautiful. As the hours go on his mask peels away, his ego forgotten, everything in him only able to experience and react to the mechanical tentacles, the chair, and her hand. The former are constantly adjusting, monitoring his responses, keeping him fully aroused in the midst of applications of agony, the two winding together and so perfectly tailored to his body's needs that he can't even think well enough to speak._ _

_ _He tries to control himself, to keep himself quiet, but every time it only lasts a few seconds before there's a pulse or vibration, inside or outside, and then he's sent screaming, trying to twist against his numerous restraints. _ _

_ _The edging process is made all the more insidious by the fact that the tentacles will never tire, won't show mercy unless she commands them to._ _

_ _By the time she finally switches the program off, he's barely able to move. Pitiful noises brush against the inside of his throat. His body glistens with a sheen of sweat and fluid from the times he'd come. There are beads of blood and bruises from when the tentacles grew rough with him, cuts in his palms from his nails digging sharply into flesh. He'd bitten into his lip hard enough to tear it once, and the program had reacted by sending a tentacle writhing into his mouth like a bit, keeping his teeth parted before he grew exhausted enough to no longer have the strength to damage himself in that way. _ _

_ _For the last hour he hadn't even had the energy to move beyond shudders when some application of pain or pleasure was given to him._ _

_ _When the tentacles finally withdraw and disappear back into their housing, he doesn't seem to notice that anything has changed. The restraints come off but he doesn't move, just lays limp with his eyes half-lidded, his breaths labored. _ _

_ _She wipes him down thoroughly with soft cloths, and rubs oil into his skin and salves into his wounds and his stretched entrance, over the raw marks from the tendrils scraping at his balls. At some point he blinks in confusion, his gaze turning to her._ _

_ _"There we are," she says, putting her hand on the side of his face._ _

_ _He makes a soft noise. She thinks he's trying to press his face against her hand, but his trembling muscles don't obey._ _

_ _She doesn't bother to take him off the Commodore. She commands the chair to recline fully and stretch large enough to more than accommodate them both, the headrest expanding and going plush with air to create a cushion._ _

_ _She climbs onto the chair, pillowing her head on his shoulder, her hand over his chest. As the minutes go by his neck curves, and his forehead moves against hers. He opens his eyes, blearily watching her._ _

_ _"Thank you," he whispers._ _

_ _She wishes he hadn't said that. He should be running screaming from her, telling her to get away from him. Not nuzzling into her like a fucking cat._ _

_ _He falls asleep like that. Valkyrie follows him soon after._ _

_ _She wakes in the middle of the night, groggily wondering what disturbed her. She realizes Loki is speaking in his sleep, eyes still closed. _ _

_ _"It's nothing," he murmurs. "It's a heartbeat. You'll never be ready."_ _

_ _\----------_ _

_ _To give Loki enough time to properly recover, they don't leave the Commodore until the late morning of the next day. _ _

_ _Solvi practically bounces on her feet when they exit, rushing towards them with her feathers ruffling up. Loki murmurs irritably in her direction, his voice still hoarse, but there's some fondness in the action when he shoves at her cheek._ _

_ _New Asgard is all in a bustle as they approach, the people come together in a huge crowd at the town's center. She wonders what's happened, sudden worry overtaking her that trouble had come while she was gone. She squints her eyes into the distance at the gathering, catching sight of a familiar blond head situated in the center of it all._ _

_ _"Thor," she breathes, elation quickly overtaking surprise._ _

_ _Loki swallows. He doesn't appear overjoyed. Hunted, is more the word she would use._ _

_ _“Don’t tell me you’re going to chicken out now,” she says, excitement filling her. “Come on.”_ _

_ _Loki gives a curt nod and follows her, steps behind._ _

_ _As they near, Thor sees Valkyrie first. He grins and spreads his arms wide. He’s still wearing the clothes he’d worn when he’d left Earth. "Your Majesty," he greets, then pauses just short of wrapping his arms around her. "Is this okay?"_ _

_ _"Yeah," she answers, her heart swelling, "yeah, it is."_ _

_ _He gleefully crushes her, then draws back. "Now what was so important that you had to...summon..."_ _

_ _Thor _finally_ sees Loki behind her. His eyes crease, his brow drawing down before his eyes widen. He looks at her in shock and vague panic._ _

_ _"But...that's not possible."_ _

_ _"You should really check your email more frequently," she says. "It's complicated. He's not - _Thor-_"_ _

_ _Thor is already moving past her, approaching Loki where he stands uncertainly some feet away. Loki's expression is closed off, but his eyes carry a defensive fierceness as he stares his brother down._ _

_ _Thor's breathing begins to change as he struggles to hold back tears. His voice cracks. "Loki?"_ _

_ _Valkyrie moves forward, bodily dragging Thor back. "Don't crowd him," she orders. "This isn't - he's not exactly - oh, I don't know how to fucking word this." She takes a breath, and Thor finally stops trying to pull away and looks down at her. "He's Loki...but he's not. He's from the past. But he's learning about his future."_ _

_ _"From the past," Thor repeats. _ _

_ _She nods. "He came from New York with the Tesseract."_ _

_ _"The Time Heist," Thor says in realization. _ _

_ _"And he ended up here," Valkyrie said. "Like I said. Complicated."_ _

_ _"No," Thor says. "No, there is nothing complicated about this." He steps towards Loki again._ _

_ _Valkyrie feels her alarm rise. "Thor...what are you doing?"_ _

_ _Thor invades Loki's personal space, his expression somber. Loki stares back, for once seemingly at a loss for words as he takes in the state of his brother, his eyes darting over the change in Thor's appearance. _ _

_ _When his gaze reaches Thor's face he frowns, and scrutinizes him more sharply. "Are you _missing an eye?_"_ _

_ _Thor's expression cracks - a smile pulls at his lips. Then he laughs, and throws his arms around Loki, looking like he's trying his damndest to crush their bodies into one._ _

_ _Loki cries out, but Thor just holds him tighter, rocking him, and Valkyrie isn't even surprised when the flash of a knife forms in Loki's hand. She rushes forward and grabs Loki's wrist to halt its progress with the blade still only buried halfway into Thor's side._ _

_ _Thor grunts, staring down at the weapon. Loki stumbles back, his hand releasing the knife, breathing hard and eyes angry. Valkyrie gives him a severe look to warn him away, then eyes the blade still piercing Thor's flesh. Thor just brings his hand down and simply jerks it out with a grimace._ _

_ _He looks satisfied beyond the pain. "Well...if I had any doubts that he's my brother, they're gone now."_ _

_ _Valkyrie rolls her eyes. Loki's anger is changing into something a bit more trapped, his confusion still plain on his face. _ _

_ _Their people watch the spectacle, surprised but not aghast. _ _

_ _She sighs. "We need to talk. Preferably somewhere a bit more private."_ _

_ _\----------_ _

_ _They walk along the shoreline near New Asgard. Thor follows on her left and Loki on her right. Solvi is behind them, her head lowered as she keeps their pace. Valkyrie knows she's watching Loki, sensing the discomfort in his body language. _ _

_ _Because Loki is as tense as she’s ever seen him. His eyebrows are pulled together, his gaze stubbornly directed forward to the horizon despite the glare of the sun._ _

_ _She reaches for his forearm, pulling him to a stop. He glances at her and then eyes Thor, taking a careful breath, shoulders squared like he's expecting a fight. Thor looks back, and if he notices the way she holds Loki, he doesn't comment on it. _ _

_ _Thor looks like he wants to speak, his mouth opening and closing, but all that comes out are indecipherable noises, half-words to the beginnings of multiple questions._ _

_ _She supposes she'll have to start. "He's not your brother." Better to make sure that one's out of the way completely first off. "Not the one we had."_ _

_ _Thor nods. "No, of course, I...I couldn't save him." And it's a measure of his recovery that saying those words fills his expression with sorrow but doesn't bring him to tears instantly. He stares at Loki in longing, with a quiet sadness, and sniffs. "So, uh - you took the Tesseract and escaped. Classic Loki." Thor barks a short, awkward laugh. _ _

_ _Loki is still taking in Thor's state with a frown. "What the hell happened to you?"_ _

_ _Thor shrugs his large shoulders. "Oh, you know - lost my entire family, Asgard, half of Earth for five years, my eye, found out my father lied to me about being his firstborn child and omitted the fact that he was a bloodthirsty conqueror for a large period of his life, was briefly enslaved on a foreign planet...had my brother murdered in front of me when I was just finally thinking we'd be free of all that." He nods at Loki, brow drawn low. "What...what have you been up to?"_ _

_ _Valkyrie has the distinct urge to slam her hand over her own face. This is painful to watch. _ _

_ _Clearly, it’s also painful to be on the receiving end of, if the look of shock and unease Loki’s face is any indication. "You've been broken," Loki says in realization, and tries to make a look of mean amusement cover his previous expression. "The mighty Thor, always willing to charge into battle for the greater good. And now look at you."_ _

_ _Thor laughs again, but it's less awkward now and more hard and angry. "You really think I _care_, if you insult me?" He shakes his head. "I know that you're not...the same Loki. You don't understand. If you want to hurt me, you've _lost_." He sucks in a breath, voice low and fervent. "There's nothing you could do to me that could be worse than having to watch you die."_ _

_ _Loki's eyes widen, the contempt draining away as he searches Thor's face. He's growing paler, pulling against Valkyrie's grip. He stumbles and comes into contact with Solvi's body, her bulk a barrier at his back. Valkyrie tightens her grip, wondering if he's planning to bolt._ _

_ _Solvi suddenly bares her teeth and trumpets. For a moment Valkyrie thinks Loki's done something to her, then she notes that his entire body has frozen in agony, and the smell of copper is strong on the air. He abruptly goes limp against her. Valkyrie bears him to the ground, her mind swirling with panic. _ _

_ _Loki's gasping, writhing, his hands cupped protectively over his chest. He’s in immense pain._ _

_ _Thor is behind her instantly. "What is it? What's wrong?"_ _

_ _"I don't know." She tears at Loki's clothing, pulling the leather apart, and hissing as the skin of her hands is overcome with a sharp burning, harsh enough that she's forced to jerk back. She stares aghast as before her eyes his skin tone visibly changes to an awful grey. His body is trembling, his breaths growing increasingly shallow._ _

_ _She reaches back in, ignoring the pain when it returns, and finally manages to cut the fabric free and reveal a huge gaping stab wound directly in the center of his chest, overflowing with blood. _ _

_ _Loki stares at her with terror in his eyes, teeth clenched. "It would appear...I've been...stabbed."_ _

_ _"No," Thor says, falling to his knees beside them. "This is an illusion, you're doing this to taunt me-"_ _

_ _"Thor," Valkyrie says, vehement, adrenaline coursing in her veins. Her hands are screaming with fire. "It's not."_ _

_ _Thor sucks in a shaking breath. "Then, h-how..." _ _

_ _"I don't know,” she answers. “It's some sort of side effect of his being from the past - he's been having visions from that Loki's life, experiencing emotions like he never left." Loki's blood is streaking across her fingers, rousing fresh pain from memories long dulled. "It's never been like this, not physical." _ _

_ _Except it had been, she remembers. Loki had even pointed it out to her - the burn on his hand, from a vision within the first few days of his coming. And the both of them had forgotten it, and moved on._ _

_ _Thor straightens. "We need healers, quickly."_ _

_ _Loki's entire body quakes, his eyes searching for Thor. "I know. I'm a fool, I'm a fool."_ _

_ _Thor freezes, scowling down. "What did you say?"_ _

_ _"I'm sorry," Loki gasps, repeated apologies falling from his lips._ _

_ _Valkyrie feels Loki's body begin to lose strength, and this is _familiar, too familiar, Hela's blades came to everyone she loved in the end.__ _

_ _Loki's eyes are grey slits, still latched desperately onto Thor. "I didn't do it for him."_ _

_ _They close, and his head falls back. Thor's hands clench, his breaths loud._ _

_ _"Thor, take him," Valkyrie commands, lifting Loki and all but shoving him at his brother. "We need to get him help, _now_."_ _

_ _Stormbreaker is instantly in Thor's grasp. He grips Loki tighter, and flies off in a sharp line. Valkyrie and Solvi follow close behind._ _

_ _\-----------_ _

_ _Loki is not dead, the healers tell them. He only appears so, the difference in his physiology changing which vital signs must be monitored. He sustains life even when his body temperature becomes what would be critically low for an Asgardian._ _

_ _Because he’s a Frost Giant._ _

_ _Somehow, that had never come up in her talks with Thor or their people. _ _

_ _She wonders what the fuck Odin had been thinking. _ _

_ _There’s nothing they can do for the stab wound - not clean it, or stitch it. Any time someone attempts to near the injury their skin is overtaken by a strange burning, and though Thor had been all too willing to fight through the pain, the threads he’d wielded had disintegrated into nothing._ _

_ _He stands at Loki's side now, wringing his reddened hands in worry. "I've seen this before," he says. "Not the burning. But the wound itself.”_ _

_ _Valkyrie looks up sharply. “Where?”_ _

_ _“With the Aether...the Dark Elves attacked Asgard. My mother…” He trails off, inhaling shakily. “Loki and I sought to defeat them. One of the Kursed was attacking me...Loki saved my life by stabbing him through. But the Kursed was only enraged by the wound, and grabbed hold of Loki and..." Thor gestures helplessly at Loki, his eyes filled with immense sorrow. "I thought - at least that time I'd bore witness to his death."_ _

_ _"But he didn't die?" Valkyrie asks. "And that was before you ended up on Sakaar."_ _

_ _"Years before," Thor confirms. "After New York...Loki spent a year and a half in the dungeons before I broke him out. And then I spent four years believing he was dead." Thor puts his hand on Loki's leg, shaking it a little. "He stole the throne from Odin, and spent all that time masquerading as the king. I never was sure if he'd intended to fake his death or not."_ _

_ _She raises her eyebrows. "He defeated _Odin_? Good on him." Then she notes Thor's exasperated expression, and shrugs. "I'm not apologizing for that." She stares at Loki where he lays, pale as death. "So he recovered from this."_ _

_ _"Yes. By the time I defeated the Dark Elves permanently and returned to Asgard...he'd already taken the throne." He frowns, his hand going to Loki's wrist, where vivid bruises circle his bare skin. "I do not remember these. Or the other wounds...the cuts and electrical burns. He must have been hiding them."_ _

_ _Valkyrie straightens, her heart suddenly beating faster. "No," she says. "Those aren't from his visions." She meets Thor’s gaze, guilt building in her chest. "He's needed help, to stay functioning. Sometimes it gets too much for him, and it's like he's trapped there completely."_ _

_ _"Trapped," Thor repeats._ _

_ _"Keeping his focus on this world helps. Sensations like pain and pleasure work the best. If he's left to his own devices, he starts to drift. He completely shuts down." She sighs. Might as well get it out of the way now. "I've been fucking him."_ _

_ _Thor pulls back sharply. "Oh." He looks over Loki, again at the marks. "To...help him."_ _

_ _"Started that way," she says. "I was trying to get him to stay here long enough for you to see him. Or at least that's what I told myself."_ _

_ _Thor stares at Loki for a long moment, cataloguing each of the injuries. He even pulls up one of the legs to Loki's trousers, and sees similar marks on the skin there. "All of them?"_ _

_ _She breathes out. "Yeah. Everything except for the stab wound. It was really bad so I...I took him on Commodore last night."_ _

_ _Thor winces, his face scrunching up in distaste. Valkyrie sighs, rubbing her hand over the back of her neck. _ _

_ _"I know," she says, guilt burning strong. "It helps his head. But that was before I realized the effects of this were physical, too."_ _

_ _"So we figure it out," Thor says, nodding to himself. "We have time, we, we contact the other Avengers, see if there's anything we can do to stop this - this _time bleed_ \- and keep him alive. Thanos shouldn't be a problem for at least four years."_ _

_ _With a coldness, Valkyrie realizes something else. "Thor...you said he spent a year and a half in the dungeons before you broke him out."_ _

_ _"Yeah, something like that." Thor's eyes widen, and he drops his hands. "What month is it?"_ _

_ _"You've been gone for half a year," she says. "But it's worse than that. _Loki_ only showed up six weeks ago."_ _

_ _"Six weeks ago, and you only sent a message to me _now?_"_ _

_ _"I've sent a message out to you every week since he dropped in," Valkyrie snaps. "It's not my fault you don't check your damn emails."_ _

_ _Thor whirls away, beginning to pace. He stares at the floor counting on his hands. "So, that's six weeks, 18 months, twelve months in a year...one...one...third weeks to months, which means four years and - god, where is Banner with his PHDs when I need him."_ _

_ _"It's sixteen weeks," Valkyrie says. "Which means we have less than four months."_ _

_ _"Four months." Thor takes in a shaky breath. "All right, fine, that's not terrible - four months to figure this out - and Loki should recover in no time to help us. We figured out time travel, what's keeping one person alive? Easy, it's easy - granted, I've tried three times with Loki already and none of them have worked out-"_ _

_ _"Thor," Valkyrie says, standing and stepping before him to stop his babbling. _ _

_ _There's a sheen in his eyes when he turns to her. He shakes his head, his expression setting into determination. "I will not watch him die again."_ _

_ _"No," she says, even if her mind is still telling her there's no way around this. Her time as Asgard’s leader has taught her how to speak towards hope in the bleakest of moments. "And I don't plan on having this be my first time. He's staying with us."_ _

_ _\----------_ _

_ _Loki comes back to them in a grimace of pain. His hand immediately moves to his chest, carefully pressing there, his breaths when they return still too shallow. “What…”_ _

_ _"Thor says you're going to be okay," Valkyrie says. "In fact, you're going to be so well that you're going to brush off the wound and overthrow Odin for Asgard's throne."_ _

_ _"Which would be wonderful, except it's _not me_." Loki struggles to roll to his side, gasping, and then falling flat again in defeat. "This is hardly fair. I _escaped_. That I should still suffer from that fool's decisions, and reap none of the benefits..."_ _

_ _"You will," Valkyrie says. "We just have to figure out a way to break your connection to the timeline you came from."_ _

_ _Loki frowns, and his hand slips from his chest to thud against the table. "Right," he says, voice dark with humor. "Because my true death is on its way."_ _

_ _"Thor's contacting the Avengers." Loki whips his head around at that in mild panic. "It was their time travel device that lead to the events that helped you steal the Tesseract in the first place."_ _

_ _Loki finally manages to curl himself upwards, hissing through clenched teeth. "And so what, they tamper with time further, with no ill effects? For their mortal enemy? No. They'll be glad to have me dead and gone." He's still trembling, and she's not sure it's entirely a result of the pain. "I could not even run now if I tried."_ _

_ _Thor rushes back in, his eyes going soft with relief as he sees Loki up. "You're awake. Don't worry, it's all going to be fine," he says, speaking a bit too fast for that to be convincing. "I'll be back soon. I just have to make some trips."_ _

_ _Valkyrie straightens as Thor grabs Stormbreaker where it sits against the wall. "Thor, where are you going?"_ _

_ _"A few places. Maybe visit Eitri, see what he's been up to, if he knows anything that could help. Drop into the middle of Scott's house because the _bastard's_ not returning my calls." Thor's about to walk back out the door when he pauses, and then comes back to her, taking a knee. "Your Majesty," he says, "if you could just make sure he doesn't do anything...destructive."_ _

_ _She raises her eyebrows. "What do you think I've been doing all this time?"_ _

_ _"I know," Thor says, and darts a glance towards Loki, "It's just - if we're right, right now that other Loki is probably actively thinking about overthrowing the King of Asgard."_ _

_ _Thor sees himself out, the sound of the Bifrost activating soon after. She and Loki are alone again._ _

_ _Loki rolls his eyes. "You know that's not - precisely how this thing has been working. My thoughts are my own. For the most part."_ _

_ _"Listen to me," Valkyrie says. "Do you have any thoughts on this? Any ideas?"_ _

_ _The humor drains from him. "You mean besides you allowing me to keep the Tesseract in the first place?"_ _

_ _"And how would that have turned out, exactly?_ _

_ _"I could have traveled in time and killed Thanos, first of all," he says._ _

_ _"Or died trying," she says. "Again."_ _

_ _Loki grinds his jaw. "You asked. What other possible solution could there be?"_ _

_ _And that's exactly the problem - she's still afraid there won't be any other solution. _ _

_ _Loki narrows his eyes at her expression. "How long do we have?"_ _

_ _She sighs, and swallows. "We think about sixteen weeks."_ _

_ _Loki pales. He struggles off the table, shouldering her away when she tries to help him. _ _

_ _"You shouldn't be moving-"_ _

_ _"I am _fine._ With strength enough to overthrow Odin, apparently." He glares at her. "Take me back to the ship."_ _

_ _It takes her a moment to realize what he is saying. "We should begin working on this," she points out. _ _

_ _"I agree. But Thor will not be gone long, and for whatever reason these visions are worsening. I need my head as clear as possible to work." He raises his chin, eyes on hers. "Please, Your Majesty. Unless you _want_ my brother to know exactly the details of our arrangement?"_ _

_ _"I told him," she says. "While you were unconscious. Not everything. Just...enough."_ _

_ _He looks surprised at that. “Any other secrets of mine revealed at this point?”_ _

_ _“You’re a Frost Giant,” she says. “But it’s not a secret in this timeline.”_ _

_ _“Of course. So...open-minded, of my predecessor. Did he wantonly display his monstrous flesh to his people?” His face looks pinched, and he suddenly won’t meet her eyes. He’s ashamed, she realizes._ _

_ _She rolls her eyes when she realizes that this means he might actually have a bigger problem with _her_, now, instead of the other way around. “So this is the part where I tell you that I’ve fucked Frost Giants before.”_ _

_ _He’s meeting her eyes again now, all right. “You _what?_”_ _

_ _If he has anything to say about it, she’s not going to let it get to her. “Time worked differently on the planet I ran to, after I left Asgard. Lost things tended to end up there, the flotsam and jetsam of the universe. A giantess, a pair of Frost Giant brothers...don’t think there were any others, or if there were, I was too drunk to remember them.”_ _

_ _He looks torn between disgust and shock._ _

_ _“Just getting that out of the way now,” she says. “I don’t particularly care if you keep your current look. But I don’t find giants half bad.”_ _

_ _“You’re serious,” he says._ _

_ _“Yeah,” she answers. “Are you going to have a problem with it?”_ _

_ _He looks like he wants to say something disrespectful, but in the end he just exhales and stares at the wall. “I suppose...not,” he says, but there’s still some reluctance._ _

_ _She shakes her head. "I'll do what you asked," she says. "You’re right. Can’t exactly comfortably stop and have a session in the middle of your brother hovering. But...there might be an easier way to make sure you stay with us after."_ _

_ _He dips his chin in a sharp nod. "Lead the way."_ _

_ _\----------_ _

_ _She pulls a box free of the wall on the Commodore. Loki is standing behind her, the lines of pain on his face already almost gone. But his hands are clasped at his front, and he rubs his fingers agitatedly into his palm._ _

_ _He stares at the box when she opens it and pulls free a small round, metal object._ _

_ _He narrows his eyes. "And what is that?"_ _

_ _"An obedience disc. It gives the wearer a shock, with varying levels of intensity depending on the settings." The words make Loki raise his eyebrows. She holds it out. "Put it anywhere against your skin. You're probably going to want it somewhere hidden, so Thor doesn’t flip his shit."_ _

_ _Loki holds the disc in his hand. Carefully, he brushes aside his hair, and places his hand against the back of his neck. _ _

_ _She uses the control to activate it._ _

_ _Loki winces as the disc latches into his flesh, his hand jerking away. "Ow."_ _

_ _"Any time I think you're having trouble, I can just," and she uses the remote on one of the lower settings, giving a jolt that's painful but not debilitating. Loki jumps, his hand instinctively going back to his neck. "It goes a lot higher than that," she says._ _

_ _Loki's voice drips with sarcasm. "And where did this wonderful device originate? That planet you mentioned, I assume."_ _

_ _"Let's hope you don't find out," she answers. "Again."_ _

_ _He scowls at her. She jerks her head towards the chair._ _

_ _"Come on. Thor won't be gone long."_ _

_ _Loki swallows, reluctance all at once in his eyes. He moves towards the chair slowly, a shiver wracking him as he gets close._ _

_ _"You'll need to choose harsher settings," he says, the swallow that follows visible in his throat. "Do not spare in pain or pleasure. And keep me there, even if I beg. I need my mind to be mine for as long as possible."_ _

_ _She touches his arm - he's broken out in goose flesh, and she runs her fingers down his arm._ _

_ _Her desire in this has nearly faded. It's a duty, now, through and through. _ _

_ _The Norns had been right. He couldn't be anything less than her slave and aid in his own survival. The alternatives were that he find someone else, or try to do these things to himself._ _

_ _He disrobes and sits back in the chair. His breaths are already uneven, his cock already stirring against his leg. The chair scans him, notes the lingering injury and scar tissue on his chest. The program will be careful to steer away from anything fatal._ _

_ _The restraints clamp down. This time the one at his chest stays hidden - instead, a thick ring of metal wraps about his neck, like a collar._ _

_ _He swallows against it._ _

_ _She crosses behind him as the tendrils begin to writhe free of their housing, and takes up her spot at his head. He's taking in harsh breaths through his nose, trying to brace himself, even though the entire point of this is that he experience what it's like to be overwhelmed, to become so stimulated that he keeps the bleeding of time and space itself out of his head._ _

_ _The chair is crueler than she could ever be, not the least of which because it still doesn't have an opinion or compunction about edging him out of his wits. _ _

_ _He does end up begging, but only a few times. After that, he never gets enough air or relief for words._ _

_ _When she unlocks him from the chair, he curls onto his side, shoulders quivering. She maneuvers herself behind him, pushing her front against the lean muscles of his back, her arm pulling him back in tight against her._ _

_ _He cries in soft, sobbing breaths, and she bites her lip and presses her head against the back of his neck, feeling the obedience disc situated there, her own vision blurring for the choices they're now faced with._ _

_ _

_ _\----------_ _

_ _

_ _They're back in her house when Thor returns. Loki is working away at her computer, searching for any answers he can find on the internet. A full mug of tea sits at his side, with lemon and honey to soothe his wrecked throat. He can barely sit properly, even with the pillow she'd placed on the chair, but he's stubbornly ignoring his discomfort as he reads._ _

_ _Thor enters, and Valkyrie notes his expression isn’t exactly the happiest._ _

_ _Loki does not look up from the computer screen as he speaks. "Let me guess. They didn't want to help."_ _

_ _"No," Thor says, his voice a low rumble. "But that did not stop me."_ _

_ _"Thor, I told you, I'm supposed to be having dinner with Cassie, you can't just grab me and drag me halfway across the world for some sort of imaginary deadline for an imaginary health issue that shouldn't even exist, and oh..._shit._" Scott Lang pauses in the doorway to Valkyrie's house, his wide eyes on Loki. He turns to Thor, his voice pitched to a whisper. "That's him!"_ _

_ _Thor nods and smiles, pushing his hand into the middle of Scott's back as he all but propels him towards Loki. “Since you are already here, you might as well help us. This is my brother, Loki.”_ _

_ _Scott cautiously lowers a defensive forearm from over his eyes. He awkwardly clears his throat. "Hey, hey, uh, hi. So. You're...the original invader of Earth."_ _

_ _"I see we've lowered the bar for assistance to 'anyone in possession of eyes,'" Loki responds, voice still rasping at the edges. His hands type rapidly over the keyboard._ _

_ _Valkyrie activates the obedience disc to expel just a small surge. Loki ducks his head with a gasp and then glares at her, hand clamped over the back of his neck. _ _

_ _She raises her eyebrows meaningfully. If he screws this up, he’s going to deal with worse than an obedience disc charge._ _

_ _"What just happened," Scott asks. He darts his gaze to Valkyrie, then Thor. "Was that the stuff you were telling me about?"_ _

_ _"No, that was me," Valkyrie says, still watching Loki pointedly. "And the wounds aren't imaginary." She addresses Thor. "What did you tell him?"_ _

_ _Thor folds his arms across his chest. "That Loki time traveled here from the past with the Tesseract, and now he's experiencing the events of that time as if he never left."_ _

_ _"So just send him back," Scott says, as if the answer is obvious._ _

_ _"_No,_" Valkyrie and Thor say in unison._ _

_ _Loki sighs. Finally, he turns to Scott. "Hello," he says, voice dry. "If there's any chance at all of me _not_ being sent to my death, it would be greatly appreciated."_ _

_ _Scott frowns. "Death? Oh...because you - _oh._"_ _

_ _"Quite," Loki responds, expression still bored. _ _

_ _"I'm sorry, I didn't know," Scott says, with genuine sincerity. "Look, I was out of the loop for a while, everyone was really depressed when I came back, what with half the world being gone, I just kind of assumed...are there any scans of your injuries? The ones that spontaneously developed? Any kind of, I don't know, presence of any odd energies?"_ _

_ _"No," Loki answers, "because New Asgard does not yet have the means for any sort of appreciable Asgardian medical care or-"_ _

_ _Valkyrie clears her throat - _loudly._ When Loki gazes at her, she jerks her head in indication. Loki goes pale, his hands twitching as his lips thin._ _

_ _Scott and Thor both look between them in confusion._ _

_ _"Thor, keep an eye on your brother," Valkyrie says. She gestures for Scott to follow her._ _

_ _She feels Loki's eyes on her back the entire way out._ _

_ _\----------_ _

_ _The scans and recordings on the Commodore are easily called forth, but she has to take careful screenshots to ensure that none of them are of when any programs were active. Scott seems nice enough, but silence is clearly not one of his strong suits. _ _

_ _He takes the remote from her hand, his eyes going over the readings. "Oh, oh, this is perfect. See here, moderate levels of gamma radiation are coming off his body. Definitely want to keep him away from humans until we get that fixed."_ _

_ _Valkyrie remembers the burns that had plagued her and Thor after coming in contact with Loki's stab wound. "What would happen to humans?"_ _

_ _"Probably, uh, damage and death. Or...you've met Dr. Banner, right?"_ _

_ _"Yes."_ _

_ _"That," Scott says, and gulps. He goes back to looking through the scans, and begins to nod profusely. "Okay. Okay, yeah. I think I can work with these. See, the Space Stone was a huge source of renewable energy, even more than the others. Maybe when he jumped forward, it kind of, I don't know, infected him with time, created its own little bubble to preserve its own timeline while in this one and just kind of sucked him in with it. I don't know, does that sound stupid?"_ _

_ _"Not exactly the word I would use," she says, her head spinning. _ _

_ _"Right. It's crazy. It-it makes sense though, I think. If we're talking about something outside the bounds of the time travel we used in the Quantum Realm to stop Thanos, there could be an influence from using the Space Stone in that way that we didn't account for. How did Loki use it?"_ _

_ _She blinks. "Use it?"_ _

_ _Scott looks up from the scans. "The Space Stone. A glove, or some other kind space dilation device?"_ _

_ _"He just used it," Valkyrie says._ _

_ _"No, I mean, what did he have it in?"_ _

_ _"His hands."_ _

_ _"His _hands_-" Scott clamps his hand over his mouth and backs up a step. When he drops it, he's laughing nervously. "But that's like, that's like travelling through the Quantum Realm without a suit. Even if you managed to make it work in the first place, there are unlimited possible trajectories and dimensions, it would take a _genius_-" He breaks off, his eyes brightening. "We should head back. And I should really put on my suit so I don't get radiation poisoning."_ _

_ _\----------_ _

_ _Scott rushes back into Valkyrie's house with new energy, now outfitted in a red, insect-like suit. "_You_ are incredible," he says to Loki, with full seriousness. "Really. I'm actually - a lot more scared of you now." He looks at Valkyrie from behind transparent ruby eye plates. "Uh, just checking, he's not evil anymore, right?"_ _

_ _Loki stares at Scott with a flat look. "Who are you?"_ _

_ _"Me? I was just here.” Scott taps at his own chest with a gloved hand. “Scott. I'm...I'm Ant-Man."_ _

_ _"Ant-Man," Loki repeats, with no inflection._ _

_ _"He can become smaller or larger," Thor says. "And he talks to ants."_ _

_ _Loki's face remains blank. "I am sure they are rousing conversationalists."_ _

_ _Scott's gone quiet at this, his shoulders slumping somewhat in resignation as they talk over him._ _

_ _"Listen to him," Valkyrie says, drawing Loki's attention. "He's the only one that has suggested anything so far."_ _

_ _Loki sighs. He sits up straighter and with stiff movements, narrowing his eyes at Scott. "By all means," he says. "Share your thoughts, Ant-Man."_ _

_ _Despite Loki's initial and less-than-favorable impression, he listens intently as Scott rambles to him his ideas and expands on what he'd told Valkyrie on the Commodore. And he's at least looking at the human now and not dismissing him outright. _ _

_ _"It's magic," Loki responds. "But I already _knew_ that."_ _

_ _"Not exactly." Scott gestures emphatically, his hands turning over each other in a circular motion. "It's like time and space being influenced - borrowed - by magic. Somehow. Every time you use your power, you're creating your own rules beyond the physics of this universe. This new time and space field is doing the same - but it's only slowed events down, instead of stopping them permanently. So, we need to figure out how to break this connection between you and your past-slash-other self without killing either of you - and if magic's causing it, maybe magic can fix it. But...I don't actually have any idea how magic _works_, or how it can just bring something like a quantum field into being, so I figured if we-if we kind of worked together..."_ _

_ _Loki looks pained. "It would seem my options are limited."_ _

_ _"Uh, thanks," Scott says, staring in uncertainty. _ _

_ _Loki gives a tight smile._ _


	5. Chapter 5

Loki and Scott spend the rest of the evening each trying to speak in terms the other will understand while discussing the possibilities of using the Quantum Realm as a buffer to prevent - or, at the very least, stretch - the time-lapse until his death.

Valkyrie has a beer with Thor. She'd tried to follow their conversation for the first few minutes, but it quickly became obvious that she was out of her depth. Thor actually has an easier time of it - but he'd lived through all of that time-space nonsense once already. Even so, by the end of the night his eyes are glazing over just as much as hers.

"This is only a temporary solution," Loki says. 

"I know, but I figure, given enough time, maybe I could talk to Hank and Hope and Janet, and we could develop some kind of suit of time-stop to control the gamma radiation the Tesseract left behind in your body."

"A suit. One I would be required to wear for the rest of my life, or else die."

Scott winces. "I'm sure there'll be some better plan that will come along. If we can get ahold of Doctor Banner, ask him what he thinks, rig up a Quantum Tunnel here in New Asgard - wow, you are _really_ pale all of a sudden. Guys, is he okay?"

Valkyrie sits up straight and sees that Loki has shattered the outermost wood of her desk by clenching his fingers into it. She quickly reaches for the obedience disc remote, but Loki darts her a look and shakes his head, managing to pull his hand free. 

"Oh," Thor says, realizing. "Loki doesn't know that Banner and he...when..." He shakes himself, like he's trying to shake loose the memory. "Loki, Banner would not bring you to harm."

Instead of surprised, Loki just looks vaguely resigned at this new information. He shakes out his hand. "Something else I have not experienced yet?"

"You teamed up with him when Thanos attacked," Valkyrie says.

Loki's expression tightens in dislike, something burning in his eyes. "How valiant." He looks away.

Scott watches them in confusion. He looks at Thor. "Listen. Can you take me back? If we're going to help him, we need to start as soon as possible."

Thor nods, albeit reluctantly, pulling himself to his feet and grabbing Stormbreaker. He stares at Loki, eyes burning with promise. "I will return."

\----------

When they're gone, Loki stares into the air at nothing. "Perhaps I should just allow myself to be sent back."

Valkyrie frowns - he's getting suicidal _now_, of all times? "Why are you saying that, when we've been given hope?"

"Hope," Loki sneers. "We are grasping at straws. Lang is right - I was far too brilliant in my execution of this escape. I wanted to avoid what fate had in store for me. I succeeded, only to get drawn into the inevitability of what my end is meant to be with a permanence that cannot be denied."

"You're acting like you've lost," Valkyrie says. "But you're here. You're alive."

"Alive. Trapped. And failing in performing _any_ of the heroic deeds of my counterpart before my life is extinguished all the same." He rubs at his chest, over the still-healing wound. "I'll reap none of the reward, though I am still fortunate enough to experience the consequences of his actions." 

She sighs - this is a tangle of complex self-loathing she's fairly sure they don't have time to deal with. "Is that why you're upset?"

He bares his teeth. "Is that not reason enough?"

"Yeah, I know. It's shit." She puts her hands on her hips. "But you're getting pissed for the wrong reasons - the fact that you're who you are is exactly the reason we'll be able to keep you from dying."

A muscle in Loki's cheek spasms. "Then must I also count myself amongst the lives your Loki has saved? What a beacon of prominence to live up to."

"Oh, for fuck's..." She walks over, leaning herself across the desk to look him in the eyes. "Do you hear yourself? The person you're getting a complex about is _you._"

"Is the point not that we are trying to keep me from _becoming_ him, in every sense of the word?"

"We're only specifically trying to keep you from experiencing what happens to end it," she says, growing more furious in turn.

"He's influencing me even now," Loki says, blinking rapidly. "I've felt it since the day I arrived. Even distant, I know his thoughts. He's calm, relaxed like never before. He reached out, used every hint of magic that Frigga taught him and more, and now he's ruling over Asgard in the guise of Odin. He has a new fondness for his people." He blinks. "Yet he expects death to come for him any day. And he fears it." Loki lets out a low laugh. "One thing we have in common."

She has the urge to punch him, or at least give him a severe shaking. "This imaginary scoreboard you're making up means nothing."

"Neither you nor Thor would be trying to save me if it wasn't for him," Loki points out.

"Except I knew you weren't him about five minutes into you showing up," she snarls, rage beginning to crumble her caution. "And Thor has loved most versions of you."

"Why?" Loki stands up, the chair loudly sliding back across the floor at his abrupt movement. He spreads his arms. "Name one positive thing I've done, one effect on the world that this previous Loki could not outdo with his heroism and sacrifice."

"He never made me fall in love with him," she says.

That makes him freeze in shock and finally stop his maddening rant. He drops his arms, and turns away from her, his head lowering. "I said _positive_, Your Majesty."

"Oh, shut the fuck up," she says, moving forward and yanking him around. She raises her eyebrows. Fuck secrets. "That planet. The one the leisure vessel is from - it was called Sakaar. A place of slavery, and violence, and hedonism. I spent thousands of years there...selling people for money. Trying to forget where I came from. Drinking myself into oblivion with the credits I received in return. I can't ever make up for what I did there. There wasn't any escaping Sakaar, you see. So at first I rationalized it as just...giving people a better fate than being torn to shreds by the butchers that would have found them otherwise. But it got easier, the more I forgot. I started to enjoy it." She puts her hand against his chest. "I was a scrapper on Sakaar for far longer than I ever was a Valkyrie. And I've had sex with _hundreds_ of people over the years. How many of them do you think I've stayed with for longer than a week?" She shakes her head, and interrupts the response he looks about to form. "The answer is none."

She's said it. And she knows she's in the same boat as Thor now, whether she likes it or not. Whether it makes sense or no, there's nothing Loki can do to either of them that would be any worse than just letting fate take its course.

Loki stares down at her, and she reaches up behind his neck, her fingers tapping at the obedience disc in the back of his neck. "You are - the biggest pain in the ass. If you stay in New Asgard after this, I'm still not discounting you driving me mad." She pulls him down, hovering their lips together, letting the breeze of his breath stir her desire. "But you gone would be worse. Now stay quiet, and stop trying to bleed yourself dry with your insecurities. Thor knows what I did, and he still gave me the kingship." She shakes her head. "Heroism great enough to erase bad deeds isn't something that's handed out like a trophy. Usually, it just ends in people dead. Or lost. And most of the time, it's not going to change what those you've hurt most think of you. If they're even still alive."

She lets him go, stepping back before turning and walking towards her bedroom. "Come on."

"I am still fine," Loki says. "I do not require another application of sensation so soon."

"Did you hear anything I said just a moment ago? Loki, _move,_ you damned ass."

She waits until he's stepped into her bedroom and then she slams him against the wall. "Ward the room against sound and entry," she says. "In case your brother returns."

He obeys with a flick of his hand. He still looks confused, so she pulls him down to kiss him and dispel any of those thoughts. It takes him a moment before he reciprocates, his hands coming up to her sides.

That morning, she'd thought he was dead. What help she had given him afterwards had been mostly for him.

This time...this is going to be for the both of them.

She breaks away only when her lungs feel like they might burst, and pulls him from the wall. "Strip," she says.

His eyes burn, but he listens, pulling his top free. His face colors as she steps forward and rubs at his abdomen with her hand while he loosens his belt. She takes the opportunity to reach down into them as soon as they're loosened, grasping at his cock. She runs her fingers over him, and feels herself grow wetter when he twitches in her hands.

"Does giving me conflicting orders please Your Majesty," he asks, stilled in his progress with his hands on his trousers. 

She smirks and steps back. "You can finish. Just wanted a sample first."

He continues undressing, and she unashamedly looks him up and down when he's done, watches his hands curl at his sides at the scrutiny.

"On the bed," she commands. "On your back."

He obeys, and she loves the shape of him, the way his lower back curves above the swell of muscle in his ass, the dip in his stomach beneath his ribs. 

She pulls her top off, grinning when he eyes her with a similar hunger. She'd hated how expressive he was when they were only tolerating each other - now, she thinks it's one of the best things about him. 

She's naked when she moves to straddle him. The Asgardian shackles are in her hand. 

"Hands over your head," she commands, and when he obeys she threads the chain through the headboard before clicking the shackles shut over his wrists. They whir as they tighten into place, molding to his skin.

He swallows, giving them a tug before clenching his hands, his nostrils flaring. She runs her hands down the length of his body, from his collarbone to his belly. The healing wound on his chest is an angry red against pale skin - she knows it's going to be permanent, just as it must have been permanent on the first Loki she'd met. 

She readies him, pulling at his cock until he's fully hard. She takes her time, rubbing herself against him, teasing with gentle brushes of her folds against his length, his thighs, savoring the friction and the heat of him beneath her. Dimly, she wonders how that works, if he’s just permanently shapeshifted into Asgardian form, or if he can control the output of his frost. She doesn’t ask though, knowing that’s going to be a touchy subject at best.

Loki groans. "Are you planning on sending me to an early death?"

She doesn't stop her movements. "Are you planning on joking about that in front of Thor?"

"What a - clever idea," he responds, trying and failing to thrust up, seeking more friction.

"It's not," she says. "You know he'll just hold onto you all the more tightly."

"Is that what you are attempting to do, Your Majesty? Our agreement was that I could leave after Thor had seen me. And yet now you've attached a long-range disciplinary device to the back of my neck."

"You said you couldn't leave," she reminds.

"I might be able to," he says. "If...given a severe enough session beforehand."

"You'd only have days to get anywhere before it got worse again."

"Perhaps that would be better," he gasps. "To lose myself fully into the visions. To remain unaware of what could have been."

She stops moving. He grasps at air, sucking in breaths through his nose as he deals with the loss of friction.

"Why are you saying any of this?" She swallows past the lump in her throat. "Do you want to die?"

He doesn't answer.

She digs her hands into his sides and shakes him. "_Loki._"

"Of course not," he spits, his eyes filling with tears. "But - what remedy could there possibly be - it's all theoretical, every other word of the man of science you brought was spoken in doubt or to discredit himself."

"That's just Scott," she says. "He's an idiot, but he’s really very intelligent. And he's kind."

"You mean like the way your Loki was so kind that he sacrificed himself to save others?” His gaze begins to look more fevered. “Perhaps I should do the opposite and try to take this entire world down with me. To ensure I've really allowed myself free will in my last moments."

"Don't," she says. She reaches for his face, all thoughts of sex forgotten. "You bastard. You should have heard the way Scott was talking about you when he found out you'd just bent the Tesseract to your will, with your bare hands."

"And you took it from me, Your Majesty," Loki says, eyes accusing. "And ignored me when I desperately sought its return. For the _greater good._ Well, tell me - what good can I do to help myself now?"

She thinks of the warning from the Norns. They could save Loki, possibly, if they traveled back and saved the one his fate was linked to. But what would happen then? Who would die in his place?

They could ruin the entire sequence of events that lead them to Thanos's defeat. And all it would take was a single Thanos, in possession of the Infinity Gauntlet and all the stones, willing to jump through every reality, and their world could become torn down again.

There's nothing, she thinks. She knows this deep down. Attempting to sever the link in this reality is their only chance.

But the Norns do not lie.

Loki's smile is bitter. "I see you're beginning to see things my way. That means you have more sense than Thor, at any rate."

She clamps her hand over his face to shut him up. "When Thor and Scott return you will work with them and do everything in your power to save yourself. You will obey this, because I am _your King._ Your place is beside me, on New Asgard. Not dead. You fought against fate well enough to end up here. _Do it again._"

When she removes her hand, Loki stares up at her. The mocking gaze is gone, replaced with some unidentifiable emotion. Finally he flutters his eyes, and she can feel his body soften beneath her, the rage filtering out of him.

"You said you never loved him," he says, his eyes locked onto her.

"No," she says. "I thought he was hot, but I think a lot of people are hot."

"Then," Loki says, "in that aspect, I would pity him."

"No, you wouldn't," she says. "You'd rub it in his face."

The barest of smiles comes to him. He brings his pelvis up beneath her. "I apologize for the interruption," he says. "I hope it is not too late for you to continue."

She feels relief. "Maybe not," she says. "But you've kind of ruined the mood. We're going to need..." She trails off as she looks around. She dismounts and moves to the chest of drawers against the wall, removing a ball gag she'd taken from the Commodore. 

Loki swallows as she shows it to him.

"This might help, if you still feel like mouthing off."

Loki's cheeks flush with color. He's definitely not opposed to the idea of it - and it's designed for long term use, with some give in the ball to keep the wearer in comfort for as long as possible.

Still, she asks anyway. "So? Will you let me shut you up properly?"

He nods. 

\-----------

By the end of the week, there's a new Quantum Tunnel sitting near the outskirts of New Asgard. Scott and Loki had spent the last two days designing him a suit that he could use to travel in the Quantum Realm - well, Scott had drawn up the plans, and Loki had picked apart every aspect of it down to the color scheme, which he outright refused - because of course he did, the vain priss. As if the most important thing about their attempt to save his life was _appearances._

Loki had gotten his way, and now he was standing in the middle of the platform wearing a suit of sleek black and green, with gold accents. 

"This is just a test run," Scott says as he looks at some readings. "Easy. Just hang out in the Quantum Realm for a few minutes, see how the suit responds, and then I'll take you out again."

"I'll go with him," Thor says, drawing everyone's attention.

Loki narrows his eyes, immediately clearly opposed to the idea.

"Just in case," Thor says placatingly. "If anything happens. I've done this before."

"Have you," Loki responds, voice low and angry. "I can handle myself, Thor. There's no need for you to put yourself at risk."

The words are enough of a surprise to Valkyrie that she does a double take. 

It's the first time Loki's spoken any concern for Thor's safety.

Thor presses a small button nestled in his hand, and a white and red suit appears from seemingly nowhere to cover his body. "Using the Tesseract to jump realities is not quite the same as becoming small enough to sink between realms."

Loki bristles. "That would be why I spent the last several days _learning_ about it, while you were hovering and drinking."

"I'm coming," Thor says, the teasing note gone from his voice. "This isn't a discussion."

Loki's snarl deepens. 

Valkyrie stares at Thor - thinks about the way he'd wept into her shoulder, the fevered way he's been staring at Loki since he saw him alive again. If Loki goes into the potential dangers of the Quantum Realm alone, even for a short while, Thor might be likely to fall apart.

"It's just for a few seconds," she says to Scott. "Right?"

"Yeah," Scott says. "Uh, yeah. In and out."

"Just let him in this once see that you're going to be fine," she tells Loki. 

"Thank you," Thor says, patting her on the shoulder.

Loki doesn't appear thrilled, but he can suck it up. Thor steps onto the platform beside him, actively ignoring Loki's glare. 

Scott presses some buttons, counts down, and then they're both gone.

Solvi starts and walks towards the platform in alarm. Valkyrie calls her back, even if internally her feelings match the reaction.

Scott's hand hovers over the dials. "And three, two, one."

A body materializes over the platform - Loki's suit, collapsing immediately to shudder violently on the ground.

"Oh my god," Scott says, as Valkyrie rushes over.

She presses the button to release the suit from Loki, who continues to shake, teeth clenched and bared, black creeping over his neck.

She realizes a moment later, her hand going to her side.

The obedience disc controller is gone.

"Fuck," she hisses, slinging Loki over her shoulder, feeling like an idiot for letting Thor pull that trick on her for a second time. Solvi rushes towards them.

Scott follows, expression panicked. "What's going on?"

"Thor's done something," she says, and worries that she knows exactly what it is. 

\----------

On the Commodore, she rushes to find a replacement controller, releasing Loki from the disc. It falls from his neck and he gasps in relief, body going limp for a moment before he retracts the helmet from his suit. He rolls to his knees, struggling on failing limbs to climb upright, before collapsing down hard.

"I have to go back," he says through clenched teeth. "Thor, the _fool_-"

She steadies him with hands on his arms, alarmed at the sharp heat she feels wafting from his exposed face. "What's Thor done?"

"He's gone," Loki says, seemingly unaware of the discomfort being near him is causing her. "He activated the disc and fled."

Her eyes are beginning to water from the sting. "Fled where?"

Loki's gaze wavers, filling with that familiar confusion. He looks around himself. "I know this place," he says.

"Of course you know it, we've been here repeatedly." She holds onto him more tightly, and there's definite burns beginning in the places she's in contact with him. She loosens her grip, wary of it worsening. "Where are you?"

Loki suddenly grasps at his head and keens.

"Loki!" She loses caution as she goes back in and shakes him, trying without success to draw his attention. "Stay here, damn you."

"It's faster," Loki gasps. "I see - Odin's death. Hela. Sakaar. Ragnarok. It's all happening now, too quickly." He stares at her in shocked horror, tears streaming from his eyes. "It was him. He destroyed Asgard."

"To save it," she says.

"Truly, Asgard's savior through and through," he utters, the words coming faster. "The people here remember and respect him, as they should. And I, imposter, a distant second to their grand hero-"

"Shut up," she demands. "You can tear yourself to pieces after we've saved your brother."

"I am out of time," Loki says over her. "Sanctuary has arrived."

Thanos.

"No," she protests. "It's too soon. We have _weeks_ more."

"Perhaps the Quantum Realm was never an option for a buffer for the Tesseract's energy," Loki says, his face haunted. "Perhaps it - only strengthened-" He cuts off, eyes growing wide and watery. Cuts form on his face. "And here it is, the final choice. Thor for the Tesseract."

Valkyrie panics, her thoughts racing, but there's nothing - they haven't the time, Thor's _gone_, even if she got Loki on Solvi it wouldn't be quick enough-

Loki suddenly grimaces, and there's an audible crack in his left hand. "Of course," he gasps, trembling. "The Mad Titan uses the Space Stone - fitting, after everything." Wild eyes find her, finally focused. "He knows his end has come. He's so afraid."

"It's not real," she says. His body is becoming like a raging inferno, her nerves screaming pain and alerting her that she needs to withdraw immediately for her own safety. She only grips into him harder. She's not leaving him alone now. "We can get you into the chair, maybe it could help-"

"Your Majesty," he says, tears falling from his eyes. "Valkyrie. There has never been anything more real in my life than this moment. Please, there's no time - just know, I-I-" 

And then he gapes, an invisible snare tightening around his throat and stifling his words, and she feels agony blow through her, sending her flinching back from him. Loki falls and throws his head back, slamming it against the ship's floor. His neck reddens and then purples with the imprint of cruel fingers. He struggles against a force unseen, his legs kicking, heels banging against the ground as his eyes bulge.

Valkyrie places her hands over his neck, and yells her pain as the flesh of her hands burns on contact, the strength of it so great that she can see her skin blister and peel. She stubbornly keeps herself in place, grinding her teeth as the pain heightens. She's not going to leave him.

But there's nothing she can do, because this is it - this is the moment she did not see, and now it's happening and there is nothing she can do to stop it and Loki's _fighting_ it, his death - he's staring at her with eyes gone red with burst blood vessels, terror on his face as his hand grips for her reddening arm even as the strength flows out of him.

"You-" he rasps, "will - never - be - a - god."

He goes limp beneath her, blood running in a line from his nostrils, his eyes. She touches him with trembling and agonized hands, shaking his body, staring in horror at the purple ruin of his neck. 

Her vision is beginning to blur. She pulls him up, and he's like a hot coal pressed against her skin. Her movements are hurried and unsteady as she calls forth the chair, placing him on it and commanding the Commodore to perform a scan. 

She's choking on more than physical agony, the grief writhing thick in her chest and throat.

This is it, this is how it always had to end. Except now Thor is gone too and _how could this have happened?_

The Commodore finishes the scan. Loki's body is giving off huge waves of gamma radiation from his new wounds, so large that they radiate in condensed rays throughout the room. She feels her skin still tingling just from being near him, and she knows she must leave soon or suffer worse damage.

Then she sees something that makes her go still. She checks again, just to be sure, bringing up another scan. 

There are vital signs.

Loki's gone off into the same comatose place that he'd done when the stab wound had opened on his chest, his skin shifted to the same grey, his neck bruised and spine fractured. But his body is holding on. 

What in the Eight Realms was happening?

She tries to figure out if the ship knows any way to help. When she starts pressing choices on the panel, it immediately blinks red at her, indicating a warning for health and safety should any leisure programs be started on Loki in this state.

"I'm not planning on having sex with him, you useless thing," she snaps. "I want to stabilize him. Do you have anything for that? He has a _broken neck._"

In answer a thick, golden restraint curves itself around Loki's throat, pressing his chin up. She watches it clamp down against his skin and then detach from the chair, becoming a makeshift brace.

She supposes those were the magic words. 

She doesn't move him. She wants to send for the healers but she knows well that there's nothing that they can do to stop this injury.

Valkyrie spends the rest of the night watching him. She thinks that at any moment he will finally fade the rest of the way out of being. Perhaps he had only perished when the Statesman had been destroyed. Perhaps there was something else. It could not be that he would now survive this.

Unless Thor...

She sucks in a shaky breath. If Thor has done what she thinks he's done, traded his own life for his brother's...

She's not sure which outcome she feels would be worse. 

\----------

Loki does not die, but he is gravely injured. He does not wake for days, and the signs of radiation coming from his body - and, in turn, damaging Valkyrie's - do not abate. She's strong, and it's lessened enough now that her cells knit themselves quickly against the deterioration, but the pain is a constant fire in her skin.

Scott stays with her on the Commodore, his suit enough to protect him from the energy. Thor hasn't returned, though Scott repeatedly had tried to reopen the Quantum Realm for him.

"I think he did it," she says. "I think he saved Loki."

"It shouldn't be possible," Scott says.

"Then how do you explain Loki's survival?"

"I can't," Scott admits. "I guess we'll just have to ask him when he wakes up."

"We don't know when that will be," she says. "If you'd like me to arrange a way home for you-"

"No, no, it's totally cool. Norway's neat." He looks sad. "I hope Thor's okay."

"Yeah," she breathes. "Me too."

\----------

The people bring them food and drink. Scott's paranoid about opening his suit to consume anything so near to Loki, and has to leave at times to make sure he eats enough to sustain him. She warns him away any time he talks about looking for help in the ship's systems, eventually forced to reveal that the Commodore was created specifically for orgies and the grand majority of its functions were to help facilitate such events.

He doesn't ask to fiddle with anything more after that.

On the fourth evening, Loki wakes.

Scott is not there, having left to brainstorm with his associates on what might have gone wrong with attempting to use the Quantum Realm to heal Loki. Valkyrie is sitting cross-legged on the ground, in an old meditative pose she used to employ when she'd been a soldier of Odin's army, and needed rest but could not sleep. 

Solvi's joyful screeches coming from outside the ship are the first thing to alert her - even trapped outside, her mount knows. 

After the initial confusion, she looks immediately to Loki. His eyes are fluttering. She lurches from the floor and immediately rushes to his side, noting in relief that the sting of the radiation has lessened, making it easier for her to stay close. 

Loki looks like a corpse that has just sprung back to life. There's no color in his face save for where the blood pooled with injury. His voice, when he attempts to speak, rasps so harshly she has to read his lips.

"What...happened?"

"I was hoping you could tell me," she says. "You were dying, and then you didn't." And Thor was gone and _had not returned._

He closes his eyes, his brow knitting. "I...Thanos."

He can barely speak. She should let him rest. But she has to know. "What's happening now? In the other place? Is Thor there?"

"I did not see. And now...there's nothing." His red-tinged eyes widen. "The connection is broken."

She stares at him more intensely. "You're sure?"

"There's - nothing from him. Loki. But I am not dead."

"Did he survive?"

Loki winces, irritation crossing his face. "How many times must I tell you I do not know?" His voice fades to nothing before the sentence's end, the swelling in his throat fighting him harder the more he strains.

To her shock, he tries to move himself. Of course, the only result is a rasping yelp of pain. 

"Stay down, you idiot," she orders.

Breathing heavily, carefully unmoving Loki turns his eyes to her in dread. "Thor did not come back?" 

"No."

He truly begins to struggle to rise then, even raising a hand as if to push her away when she goes to lay him back down. He's going to hurt himself worse struggling against her, so with reluctance she begins to steady him instead of stopping him. 

Now upright, he stares at her, face pale and hair lank about his face. "Why?"

"You know the answer," she says.

Loki's eyes are beginning to fill with tears. "And so in the end, I don't become your Loki. I am someone with both sets of memories. And I have lost, because Thor is gone."

"Your brother somehow broke the rules," she says. "I don't know how he did, but he wanted you alive so bad that he found a way. Without anyone dying."

"Save himself," Loki hisses, then narrows his eyes, tears forgotten. "Wait, what rules? What would you know of any rules?"

"I tried to figure out how to save you," she admits. "After...your mother. There's a witch that lives outside of town. She's a Norn displaced from the destruction that came with Ragnarok. She told me you couldn't be saved without other lives lost."

"She said what?"

"She said we couldn't keep you alive without ending other lives in your place."

"_Which_ lives?"

Valkyrie pauses.

"The Norns speak in riddles, and you didn't think to ask for specifics?" Loki struggles to stand, gasping in agony, but he's growing steadier by the second. "Take me...to her."

"You'll make it worse-"

"Thor is lost, because he found some kind of loophole. I will not be outsmarted by that oaf. I must know the possibilities."

"Fine," she says. "Just telling you right now, she's a real bitch. And she specifically has a grudge against you for destroying her home with Ragnarok."

"She can get in line," Loki snarls.

\---------

The flight isn't pleasant. Loki's injuries are numerous, and he keeps mostly quiet - though that might be so he can preserve his wrecked voice. By the time they land, he's sweating and pale. Solvi keeps close to him but doesn't attempt to budge her head against him, sensing his fragility. He holds his injured arm close to his chest as they walk up the path towards the front door to the witch's house.

Loki knocks, and the door swings open. This time Valkyrie is prepared for the dark that greets them. She's surprised that she's being allowed back in at all.

Loki moves slow, though now with wariness in addition to pain - he's angry, but he's not stupid. He takes in the house with shrewd care, before his eyes set on the woman sitting at the table across from them.

"Ah," he says, voice still hoarse. "Verdandi."

The Norn smiles. "Ragnarok-bringer. What do you seek?"

"What happened to Thor?"

"He goes to find his death in your place. He could not stand to watch you die again. To have the Mad Titan cast even one more blow against him would have brought him to ruin." 

"Oh, Thor," Valkyrie breathes. 

Loki steps closer, staring into the basin at her side. He doesn't flinch from the faces within. "You told the King of Asgard my life could not be saved without the ending of other lives."

All voices answer him. "That is correct."

"Thor has too much value for innocent creatures to risk that."

"You are blind to what follows your passing," Verdandi says. "Even if it were to cause the destruction of the universe itself, the God of Thunder would not have cast off from his plan."

"So he's as short-sighted as ever."

"No. He understood perfectly well what had to be done to save you."

"What, to offer his life in some sort of reckless suicidal attempt? To one-up the Loki-that-was?" Loki's voice goes progressively weaker the more he tries to force it louder, and Valkyrie has to strain to hear him. "He couldn't even allow me this _one_ victory, this gift for his life? Is that what you are saying?"

Valkyrie stares at him, shocked at this baring of emotion, the confirmation for the reason for Loki's sacrifice. 

Verdandi's response is calm and certain. "There must be balance."

Loki works his jaw as he stares down a Norn. Tears stream over his cheeks. "_Fuck_ your balance."

He stalks out. Valkyrie follows him, her heart aching. 

"You didn't see Thor," she says. "When you were gone, after everything...even killing Thanos didn't give him pleasure. He wasn't living."

He turns on her, expression vicious. "_I_ am not the one that caused that ache for him."

She stares back unflinchingly. "You would have been."

Loki stops, his eyes closed and head bowed. His good hand trembles, and he clenches it. Then he raises his head.

"Call your beast," he requests. 

\---------

When they reach New Asgard, Loki's gaze is distant, though he maintains when she asks that his mind is clear. 

He follows her into her house, and crumples into a seat, the strength leaving him. His swallow against his throat is rough and pained. He glares at the suit that Scott had made for him, hung up on the wall. 

She makes him some tea, but the action is really so she can take a few minutes for her own shields to come down. She wonders if Thor had known, in the end, that it would work. Wonders how happy he was to successfully execute his plan.

She wipes at her face, and takes a swig of beer, but only a swig, no matter how tempting. She knows better than to traipse herself back down that road.

She sets a steaming mug in front of Loki. He doesn't track her movements, his skin still its painful grey.

"I have to...alert the people," she says, trying to hold it together for a few moments more. She can break down when her duty is finished.

Loki does not respond. She expected him to scream, to cry and yell, to hurl insults at her or the sky, to get violent. This, though...she's not sure what to do with this. He looks like a shell, a broken casing for the Loki that was. She can't even see if he's really breathing.

"It shouldn't take long," she says. She wants him to come with her, but she's not going to force him in this state. "I'll be back soon."

She raises her hand, intending to lay it comfortingly on his shoulder.

It passes through air.

She jolts. The Loki in the seat fades with a shimmer of green.

Outside, Solvi's cries echo across the sky.

"No," she says, angry terror filling her. "You're not running now."

She grabs the manacles and bolts from her house, her eyes scanning. Her people point to a spot in the distance.

The Quantum Tunnel.

Loki's suit is still hanging up in her house. 

"Call Scott," she orders the nearest Asgardians, her heart seizing. "Tell him to go to the platform."

She races forward, jumping onto Solvi's back when she runs to meet her. Solvi's hooves pound into the dirt, sprinting them towards the lone figure standing in the center of the Quantum Tunnel device.

Loki sees her coming. He raises his hand, and an aura of brilliant green surrounds him. 

Then he activates the device, and disappears.

Solvi screeches and pulls them to a stop as they reach the Quantum Tunnel. Valkyrie dismounts and attempts to identify anything of the controls, cursing herself for not paying better attention, for thinking it unnecessary for her to attempt to gain the knowledge she desperately needs now. 

"No," she says, wanting to slam her fist through the panel. "Not this. Not both of them."

She wants to run, as far from everything as she can manage. 

But she can't. She had promised herself she was going to be a better person now. And more than that, she has a duty. 

Her heart feels like ash in her chest.

Scott is finally running up. "What happened?"

She gestures at the platform. "Loki activated the Quantum Tunnel. He wasn't wearing his suit."

He nears her, his face stricken. "He what? To do what? That's crazy. He could get trapped for eternity - there wasn't even a second person to activate the tunnel in the first place! How could he go through the particles between realms?"

Valkyrie looks to Solvi, at the dark eyes still on the platform, ears pricked forward. "Magic," she answers. 

An idea forms. Some of her useless fretting fades.

She thinks of Loki's suit, still hanging up in her house. "Scott," she asks. "Have you ever made armor for a winged horse?"

Scott's face crinkles. "A what?" He looks at Solvi, and swallows. "You're not thinking..."

"She can track him," she says.

"It's the Quantum Realm! Time and space are irrelevant. He could be anywhere in there. He could be gone already."

"Time and space aren't my concern," she says.

It looks like it's finally sinking in for Scott. He looks between her and Solvi, and runs his hand over his hair. "It's going to take a lot of material. And I'll have to talk to Hank."

"Whatever you need," she says.

\-----------

Solvi doesn't stray far from the Quantum Tunnel as Scott works as fast as possible to craft her a suit. He spends his nights facetiming with his science partners, even his daughter - she's all too happy to delve into her latent horse love to help him and make suggestions when it comes to the design. 

Valkyrie prepares her people, knowing that there's a possibility she's not going to return. 

She has to risk it. She's not going to live out the rest of her days wondering, not if she can do something about it this time.

The inside of the suit designed for Loki smells like him, like earth and chill and a furnace all at once. It makes her heart seize - she misses him all the more strongly.

Solvi awkwardly steps onto the platform beside Valkyrie in her own suit. She’s been trained to wear battle armor, but it's hardly used and not as completely encompassing as what Scott and his teammates have designed. The wings were especially difficult, to keep the fluidity and streamline qualities of Solvi's feathers while simultaneously including them in the technology that will shrink the rest of her down.

Solvi shakes her head, her eyes watching Valkyrie from beneath the glass that covers her face. Valkyrie presses a hand into the side of her neck and hoists herself onto her back.

"Ready," she says.

Scott's staring, mouth agape. He abruptly shakes his head. "Right sorry, it's just - that looks really cool. Hang on, let me get a picture for Cass. God, could you look any more majestic? I mean, that green really pops on top of white."

Scott takes his photos, and then his amazement fades as he starts adjusting the buttons and dials and begins the activation sequence for the tunnel. 

He looks up at her. "If anyone can bring them back, it's going to be you," he says, his smile full of faith.

"Thank you," she answers, and she’s going to believe it. She can’t do anything else.

The device activates.

The world fades and they fall.

Solvi has a moment of panic before she adjusts, wings outstretched to glide, legs moving in a mid-air gallop. She carries them through a realm of light and crystal, hazy colors overtaking Valkyrie's vision. It's seemingly endless. But Solvi moves with purpose, banking around large floating objects, like tangles of living string, every surface shimmering with constant motion.

They reach a swell of charred black space in a mountainous stretch of jagged pillar. Green flecks hang in the air there, like they've been trapped in invisible tar. 

Loki's magic. 

"That's it?"

Solvi snorts and speeds faster towards it in answer. Valkyrie readies the device that will send them from the Realm, her thighs clenched against Solvi's bulk.

The first shimmer of green brushes Solvi's nose. Valkyrie presses the button.

The world opens up.

Solvi's hooves touch ground and she struggles to a stop, wings folding back. Sparks and flame surround them. Asgardians flee the destruction, crying out.

The Statesman.

There are already bodies on the ground. She dismounts Solvi and nears one, her hand coming down to check for any signs of life.

It falls through with a shimmer of green. 

She pulls the limb back, staring in confusion. But not for long. Down the hall, the boarding party, with Thanos among them, is already well in progress with destroying the ship. 

She knows her past self has already gathered as many of their people as will fit on the Commodore, and any escape pods they can manage. 

There's a distant roar. Hulk has been deployed.

She moves forward slowly, her eyes searching the false fallen. Every body she passes gives off that same green shimmer when she touches it.

Loki has clearly already been here.

She orders Solvi to stay back as they near the commotion ahead. Hulk's roars have long stopped. When she peers around a corner, Thanos already wields the Space Stone. Loki - the past Loki - stands before him, knife pointed upwards and body trembling.

The Infinity Gauntlet is closed around his neck.

It's her first time seeing this - the physical cause. Thanos is cruel, and self-satisfied as Loki fights futilely against his grasp, as his life is drained from him.

She hears Loki utter his final defiant, dying words.

And that's when Thor emerges in his Quantum suit, lightning sparking from Stormbreaker as he swings down at Thanos. 

He hits nothing. Thanos has been removed, thrown across the room by an invisible force, his would-be victim fallen from his grasp. One of his lieutenants, the tall squiggly one, has a hand outstretched towards him.

Thor does not pursue Thanos, though lightning cracks out from his body at all angles, Stormbreaker's blade a brilliant flash of power. 

The past Loki is unconscious on the ground, his neck already a horrendous purple. Just as it had been on the Commodore.

Thanos gets to his feet, staring in perplexity and rage at the new Thor. "What is this trickery? Asgardian."

The past Thor behind them is making urgent noises - muzzled, probably absolutely bewildered at seeing an older version of himself there to combat Thanos. 

"It does not matter," Thanos says, clenching his gauntleted hand. "I have what I need. You will be but a stepping stone."

The older Thor's eyes pull to Loki, unconscious but alive. His face creases with relief, and he gazes at the warriors that surround him - Thanos armed with two Infinity Stones, and his closest followers.

Thor drops Stormbreaker. It thuds loud against the ship’s floor.

He's not just going to die, Valkyrie realizes. He's going to let them kill him. He'd come to see Loki safe, and now he's just...going to take the brunt of their anger, so Loki stays alive. To fulfill the balance that Verdandi had spoken of.

Valkyrie shouldn't have come here. She's not going to be able to watch this without interfering. Just as Thor couldn't stand by and...

Shit.

Thanos is powering up the stones in the Infinity Gauntlet by the time she pulls herself onto Solvi's back, charging forward with her voice raised. Thanos's lieutenants whirl to her, distracted, and Thanos himself is pausing in his movements at her advance. 

He changes his targets easily, stretching the Infinity Gauntlet out towards her, the stones beginning to gleam.

She holds tight to Solvi, whispering an apology. They're not going to survive this. But, Norns willing, Thor will.

The stones flash brighter.

A gangly shadow leaps onto Thanos’s neck, plunging a knife up to the hilt in the front of the Mad Titan’s throat.

The Gauntlet changes course, reaching up. Towards Loki.

And it’s _her_ Loki, teeth bared, snarling, fighting through the injuries that yet paint him. He pulls free his knife and stabs repeatedly.

Thanos grimaces, his cry garbled, and as he grips into Loki with the Gauntlet, Thor retakes Stormbreaker and slashes his arm off. 

Solvi screams and launches herself sharply upwards, soaring over the Black Order and lashing her hooves against Thanos's face, toppling him before coming to a landing beside Thor.

Valkyrie dismounts. To their side, the captive Thor stares in further shock and confusion.

The Black Order stares down at their commander, who breathes heavily as he struggles to regain sense. Loki has already pulled free the Infinity Gauntlet and retreated back to them. 

"You stopped them from killing any of the Asgardians," Valkyrie notes. 

Thor looks at her sharply. "He what?"

"Your brother crafted illusions so the Black Order only thought they were killing Asgardians."

Loki makes a gesture, and the bodies around them fade, even down to Heimdall. A perfect replication of the invasion.

Thor's expression wars between relief and dread. "But...the Norn said other lives had to be lost."

Loki throws his bloodstained knife into the air, flipping it before grasping the hilt. The proximity of the stones seems to return some of his liveliness. "I'm surprised you haven't figured it out, yet, Thor. The answer is right in front of your face."

Thor looks. Only Thanos and the Black Order are in front of them.

A slow smile starts over his face. He grows positively giddy. The blade of Stormbreaker sparks within his hand.

Thanos's head is only the first to fall to his ax.

\----------

In the aftermath, they stare at each other, the only bodies around them now those of the Black Order. Outside, the remnants of Sanctuary burn with purple fire from the Power Stone.

The Thor-that-was has been released. He crouches over his fallen brother, face full of desperate relief as he finds him still alive. Then he gazes back at the picture they present - another version of himself, aged and wielding Stormbreaker, Valkyrie in Loki’s Quantum suit, Loki in possession of two of the Infinity Stones, with Solvi pressing herself affectionately at his uninjured side.

Thor-that-was speaks lowly. "Who are you people?"

Loki grins. He pulls the Space Stone free of the Infinity Gauntlet, and uses it to pull the four of them out of Thor-that-was's sight. 

When they are alone, Thor looks pained. "Can't we stay here?" He gestures with Stormbreaker. "This is the better universe now."

"But what about our universe?" Valkyrie looks Thor in the eyes, internally begging him to not do anything else foolish. "They still need a King of Asgard. And a God of Thunder."

Thor looks briefly disappointed, but then his eyes turn to Loki and he brightens. "And a God of Mischief."

Loki doesn't answer. He's standing with the Space Stone, staring at it quite intensely. He meets Valkyrie's eyes, and she feels a sudden fear, because she's seen that look enough times now to recognize it. It's the look he gets before he's about to run.

"Don't," she says. Begs. "You can't, not after everything."

"What are you talking about? What is he..." Thor trails off, belatedly noting the Space Stone. He looks at Loki in panic.

"Take care of Thor," Loki says to Valkyrie, a portal already opening around him. "I have some...balance, to disperse." The gateway shuts, and he's gone.

"No," Thor gasps, the weight of his grief and terror nearly making him stumble as he moves into the spot Loki had been. "No, where did he go?"

"He's gone," she says, feeling as if the life has been pulled from her. For all _Loki's_ fear of her eventually tiring of him, it seemed it had turned out to be the other way around.

Thor's speaking fast, trying and failing to keep his voice level over rising emotions. "He can't be gone, I saved his life. Use your - use your horse." He turns to Solvi, gesturing. "Well, go on. Sniff him out."

"He didn't escape through the Quantum Realm," Valkyrie says. "He's using the Space Stone to travel. He could be in any time or place. Thor...we can't follow him."

"But I saved him," Thor whispers, his face crumpling.

"You did." She grabs his forearm, pulling him down the hall and carefully showing him the younger Thor. "Look."

That Thor has taken up his injured brother in his arms, a quiet solemnity to him as he cradles the thin body. From the walls there are shaking noises - the Commodore has docked again. Their people have returned to the ship.

"He's going to wake up," she says. 

Thor stares, a multitude of emotions cascading across his face, longing, jealousy, regret. "I wish that could be me," he murmurs.

"I know," Valkyrie says, her own thoughts of what a timeline this would be filling her head. "Come on. Our people need us. 

Thor looks down at the ground, and then nods decisively. They activate their Quantum suits, and head back.

\----------

New Asgard returns in a flash of green, the recycled air of the Statesman replaced by the scent of the Norwegian Sea, of cool damp mud and grass. At the controls of the device, Scott almost jumps with glee.

"You're back. You're back! Oh, my god, I can't believe that worked." His celebration is cut short as he notes Loki's absence with a frown. "Oh. Oh no. Don't tell me."

"I found him," Valkyrie says. "He helped kill Thanos, and took the Space Stone. Then he left."

Scott’s eyes widen, his mouth coming agape in shock. "He took the - he _took_. He can't do that!"

"He did," Valkyrie says, already reconciled to this new hardship. "Again."

Some of Scott’s frenetic energy calms as he takes in their gloomy expressions. "Well, where did he go? Did he say? Can we follow him, get him back?"

In answer, Thor approaches Scott, who grows paler by the second. He claps his hand in a heavy weight upon the human's shoulder. "Loki is off being Loki," he says, regretful, but full of pride all the same. 

He wanders away towards the town, his slow steps mirroring the weight Valkyrie feels in her heart. Scott watches him go, at a loss. 

Valkyrie takes in a steadying breath. She needs to see to her people before she allows her emotions to get the better of her. 

"Thank you for your help," Valkyrie says to Scott. She gives him a smile she doesn’t quite feel. "We saved his life. That's what we set out to do."

"You're welcome," he says, the end somewhat of a question. 

“Solvi,” she commands, patting the side of her mount’s neck.

There’s minimal response. Solvi doesn’t move her fixed gaze from the platform. 

Valkyrie feels grief grip its hooks into her lungs all the more viciously. She ruthlessly shoves it down, determined not to lose her composure out here.

“We have to go,” she says firmly, already knowing that Solvi is going to return as soon as she dismounts.

Reluctantly, Solvi turns away from the Quantum Tunnel.

It’s a slow trudge back to the village. 

\----------

She doesn’t sleep that night. Instead, she lays in bed and stares at the ceiling, listening to the sounds of the sea against the docks. Her room is frigid, but she hasn’t bothered to light the fireplace. 

Past midnight, there’s a gentle, hesitant knock at her door. She almost thinks she’s hearing things. But when she rises and passes into the living room, the sound comes again.

Thor is on the other side of the door when she opens it. He’s changed his clothes, but his hair is still unkempt.

“Thought you might be awake,” he says, exhaustion coloring his tone. He shows her the bottles he has in his hands. “I brought beer.”

“I have beer,” she responds, face carefully blank. 

“And now you have more,” he says, pressing one firmly into her hand.

She sighs, feeling that familiar desire for drink, mingled with a bit of fear. 

“Oh, what the hell,” she breathes, twisting the cap free and downing it in one go. 

They settle in her living room, Thor slouched in a recliner. She’s finally put a fire on, and the orange glow highlights the dark marks beneath Thor’s eyes. 

“I returned Scott to his family,” he murmurs, his thumb tracing the opening to the bottle he clasps in his fist. “Your horse was still in the field when I got back.

Not surprising. “She liked Loki,” Valkyrie says. “She thought he was fun.”

Thor’s shoulders jerk in a soft laugh, before his gaze grows distant. “I wonder what he’s doing now.”

“Something dramatic, no doubt,” Valkyrie answers, taking another long swig.

The small smile is still there. “A large part of me wishes that he’d just, I don’t know - appear out of thin air. Let me know he’s all right before he goes off again.” He sniffs in a breath, blinking a bit too rapidly. “Maybe it would make me feel less worse about the mistakes I’ve made.”

“He won’t,” she says in resignation. “He’s too clever for that.” 

Even imagining it, Loki suddenly showing up here and now, she feels a simulacrum of the panic that would rush for her. She knows she wouldn’t even think before binding him within an inch of his life, to make sure he wouldn’t run from her or Thor ever again.

A half-smile pulls at her mouth. “Neither of us would give him any breathing room. He’s not the type of person to be corralled for long.”

Another soft laugh, and Thor’s eyes begin to glitter, before he runs a quick hand down his face to put his emotions in check. “I didn’t ask,” he says. “What happened between you and him...it was more than just sex, wasn’t it?”

She doesn’t respond. The stretching silence is filled with the crackling of the fire over logs.

Thor sits back and raises a hand placatingly. “Sorry, that was too personal. Damn beer,” he mutters, even as he opens and guzzles another, studiously keeping his gaze on the fire.

Her chest expands around a heavy sigh, her shoulders slumping. She stares at the fibers of the rug beneath her feet. Her answer comes in a murmured breath. “It was,” she admits. “On my end, at least.”

When she glances up, Thor is watching her quietly, clearly in no small amount of surprise that she’s opened herself up. She brushes off the feelings of shame and vulnerability, rising to her feet. “Hungry?”

“God, yes,” Thor rumbles.

\----------

Loki doesn’t return to them. Valkyrie keeps busy, forcing herself to move around that hole in her heart. 

They don't tear down the Quantum Tunnel - instead, a new building is erected around it, to ensure it is kept intact. 

Thor decides to stay in New Asgard for now. Korg and Miek are happy enough to have their roommate back, understanding in the face of Thor’s new inundation of trauma. 

She goes back to Verdandi’s house a few times during the first weeks, unsure if she’s doing it to seek answers or to rub Loki’s escape in the Norns’s faces. But she can never bring herself to knock. 

“He figured it out,” she simply says to the door, on her final visit. “Not even your threads of destiny could keep the God of Mischief from choosing his own fate.”

There’s no answer, but that’s all right. 

Her home, when she’s in it, feels empty. There’s an odd lack of urgency surrounding her tasks now that she has no one to watch, and too much quiet now that there’s no one constantly complaining about the temperature of her bedroom.

There are still videos, on the Commodore. When she's feeling particularly masochistic she takes herself there, curls herself into that awful chair and allows it to play her the video it had taken of them sleeping together. She drifts off staring at her own face curled into the back of Loki’s neck.

It gets better with time. But she's not going to let herself forget. She'd tried her hardest to adhere to that strategy once, and it had left her lost for thousands of years.

She's not going to let herself be lost this time.


	6. Chapter 6

****

**Epilogue**

The day he shows up, Valkyrie has just finished overseeing and sorting the arrival of their latest fishing haul.

New Asgard is thriving, well beyond the simple fishing village they had resigned themselves to becoming. They've grown three times the size, and with the help of the notes Loki had left their architects, were on their way to creating a city both worthy of Asgard's might and well within the concerns and regulations of the human government nearby.

She's changed into her linen pajamas and intending to indulge in a drink or three before bed.

He's standing at her desk when she comes out of the shower, his fingers tracing over her latest stack of paperwork. 

She stops all movement, wondering for a moment if her mind is playing tricks on her. His hair is longer, spread down past his shoulders. His armor is intact, no holes or dirt, and no visibly fresh injuries. He doesn’t turn to her, even if he has to know she’s there.

"Hello," she says, her heart swollen in her throat. She keeps her distance - wondering if this is even the same Loki that left her. "How did you get past without Solvi noticing?"

"I didn't," he admits. "I was forced to ply her with food and affection to keep her from announcing my arrival."

He turns then, and his neck is stained dark. The remnants of the marks of his throat withstanding the crush of the Infinity Gauntlet are tattooed into him. His complexion is pallid, his cheeks gaunt. But his eyes watch her attentively. 

She cautiously steps forward, afraid he’s going to evaporate into thin air as soon as she nears. He watches her approach with a wary uncertainty.

She tries to inject some nonchalance into her voice, but she can feel her eyes tingling. "Well, whatever you did while you were gone, the universe didn't fall to pieces. So I guess I can forego calling Carol on you." She stops within steps of him, reassured of his solidity at this distance. "What..._were_ you doing?"

"Something tiring," he says with a wan smile.

"That's cleverly vague," she responds, feeling that familiar irritation brush shoulders with fondness. “Are you...are you back, now?”

In answer, he swallows, standing straighter in a sign of respect. "I'd like to apologize," he says. "For disobeying Your Majesty." He averts his eyes downward for a moment. "That is, if I still may."

Now he's looking at her, expression vulnerable, his naked need clear. He's gone off and traveled for - who the hell knows how long. And now he's back, and he's asking if she'll take him again.

It’s more than she could have hoped for.

"I told you that you were allowed to go anywhere you wanted after you met with Thor," she says, voice soft. "Though I'll admit I wasn't quite expecting it to involve moving into a different reality." 

"About fourteen and a half million," he says.

"_Fourteen_-" She breaks off. She looks him over again, the raggedness, the way he's gone thinner, like he's forgotten he needs food to sustain himself. But he’s strong, steadier, an assuredness to the physicality of him that doesn’t match the exposed emotions of his eyes.

She wonders how old he is, now. 

"And you didn't forget me," she says, and hates that it comes out like a question.

He relaxes minutely. "You were in most of those realities," he points out. 

She opens her mouth, then shuts it, a curdle of envy stirring in her stomach. "I think I understand what you were talking about, now, when you mentioned the jealousy towards your other self thing."

"I wasn't exactly interacting," he clarifies. "Mostly I kept to my illusions, a shade upon worlds. Those realities only needed...the proper push, to find their way. To ensure Thanos never met with success in a single timeline. I became quite skilled in that."

"You mean you took sticking it to the Norns a little too seriously," she says.

He shrugs. "I enjoyed having that control. The free will. Feeling like my life had purpose. But eventually, I had to stop."

"That's good," she says, "because there are plenty of people that need you here." 

His eyes soften in an almost-smile. 

Valkyrie makes up her mind. "Come on," she says, gently grasping his arm. "Let's go meet with them. And don't stab your brother this time."

"I've saved his life hundreds of thousands of times by now," Loki says as he follows her lead. "And that’s only directly. He can take a little stabbing."

Her people gather outside as Loki comes back to them once again. Thor comes out of his house, squinting into the setting sun at the commotion. When he sees Loki, there’s not even a second of hesitation before Stormbreaker is in his hand. He shoots across the distance between him and Loki in an instant, crushing him to the ground.

Loki grimaces beneath his brother’s grip. "I'm glad to see you too." He gasps as Thor wraps his hands around him more tightly, his eyes going to Valkyrie. "Are you quite sure I'm not allowed to stab him?"

"You're alive," Thor says, voice muffled by Loki’s shoulder and completely ignoring the stiffness in the form beneath him. He jerks his head up, expression ecstatic. "Korg, Miek - Loki's alive!"

Korg steps forward, peering downwards at them. "Oh, that's good! I thought maybe he was a ghost again."

Loki is eventually allowed up, but Thor doesn’t release him. Instead, he’s drawn away by his brother’s strong grip to greet the rest of their people, his eyes darting to Valkyrie in brief panic. She waves him off, his obvious reluctance drawing forth a swell of humor.

He deserves it, the bastard, for everything he’s put Thor through.

She stays back, her heart pounding with joy as she gives them their moments of peace. 

\----------

New Asgard throws a feast late that night. Gathered in the Meeting Hall, the walls echoing with music and laughter, the Asgardians and Sakaarians celebrate Loki's return. Solvi stands inside, refusing to allow herself to be excluded from the festivities.

Thor keeps a stern hold on his brother, but it's all joviality and not desperation. And Loki's discomfort is all but gone, though there's a lingering sadness to him when Thor is not looking. 

Korg is reading to the children again. Valkyrie's staring his way, because she's certain she's seen her name upon his lips again, when Loki comes to sit beside her.

"Korg's been writing stories about you and I," Loki says, and she turns to look at him sharply. He's holding a glass of wine, half-emptied already. "Or rather, what he imagines happened between us. Obviously, he has no real idea. The sex is all very tame." Loki tilts his head, a flash of humor in his eyes. "Though he did get the pegging part down."

Valkyrie feels her cheeks color. "I'm going to kill him."

"Thousands of years on Sakaar and you still have the ability to blush," Loki says, smirking. 

She rolls her eyes. She turns her gaze to Thor, who has miraculously allowed Loki to stray more than twenty feet from him. 

"Surprised you managed to worm away from your brother," she says.

"He told me I was in good hands," Loki says, and his eyes when they turn to her are heavy with meaning. "Though he's requested with fervor that I don't ask you to mark me quite as extensively."

"I was hoping he'd forget that," Valkyrie says, eyeing Thor in guilt. 

"I can apply glamors," Loki says.

"Really? I wasn't sure, what with..." She trails off and nods to his neck.

The amusement leaves his face, his fingers coming up to where his neck is colored. He looks at his own reflection in the glass in his hand. "I spent so long not being seen...I didn't remember."

"You're getting that look again," she says. "The one I saw you giving Thor earlier."

Loki sets down the glass, frowning. "None of it meant anything," he murmurs. "Millions of realities, and I'll never be able to match him."

She sighs, unable to believe him. "You're not telling me you went galavanting across the universes just so you could try and win against yourself in a grudge match."

"There was no contest," he says.

"Why?"

"Because his was the first sacrifice. The truest."

"Maybe I should give Korg's stories a read-through. Just to make sure he has all of the self-loathing of your characterization down."

"No," Loki says. "He paints me as an even grander hero than physically possible."

"Isn't that enough?” Valkyrie asks. “Can't you just...leave it? Stop fighting yourself in your head about this, and let the people see what they want."

Loki sends her a look. He picks his wine glass back up, downing the rest of it in one go. "You first, Your Majesty," he responds.

She watches him go. He holds out a handful of grapes to Solvi, who eagerly follows him out the door.

Valkyrie thinks she might hate him.

\-----------

After the celebration, but before most of the Asgardians have begun to trail back to their houses, Valkyrie finds him outside. He's examining the developments that have occurred since his disappearance, and is standing in front of the tower that houses the Quantum Tunnel. 

"Don't poke holes in it," she says as she approaches. "If you want to make adjustments, just keep it quiet."

He looks at her in confusion. 

She gazes back up at the tower. "It's yours," she says. "We made it in case you ever returned. As a thank you."

He looks at a loss for words. 

"You can go in, if you want to." She swallows, wondering if she’s going to hate herself for baring her own needs. "If you're really planning on staying."

"At the very least, for a few hundred years," he says. "If Your Majesty allows."

"Oh, I allow," she says, feeling the last of the dread finally loosen itself from her insides. 

He gives the tower another look, then backs away a step. "Not yet," he says. "As much as I yearn for rest, there's something else I crave much more."

She catches on to the hint of suggestion in his tone with an eagerness. "Well...I think I might be able to work with that."

His eyes shine with hunger. He approaches her, his steps a saunter. "Are you planning on being creative?"

She grins, ideas already forming in her mind. She grips into his armor, pulling him close, gratified at the way his eyelids flutter. "When am I not?"


End file.
